


The Scent Of Dead Skin on a Linoleum Floor

by TaylorLives



Series: MHAU [1]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Anxiety, Bulimia, Cigarettes, Dallon Weekes/Brendon Urie/Ryan Ross, Depression, Drug Abuse, EDNOS, Eating Disorders, Fingering, Frerard, Gerard and Brendon are besties, Happy Ending, Hearing Voices, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kinda?, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multiple Personalities, Past Child Abuse, Peterick, Physical Abuse, Ryden, Ryllon, Schizophrenia, Self-Esteem Issues, Sex Addiction, Threesome - M/M/M, anger issues, brallon, hypnotherapy, joshler - Freeform, metal hospital au, self hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-10-22 19:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10703157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaylorLives/pseuds/TaylorLives
Summary: Brendon is hospitalized for an eating disorder and is put with Ryan as his roommate in Clover Fields Care Center for Young Men.Mental Hospital AU where Ryan hears voices and Gerard is a cinnamon roll





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Like Suicide, Only Softer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/597961) by [halloucinogens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halloucinogens/pseuds/halloucinogens). 



> okay hey so two things about me, your author:  
> 1: I dont identify feelings well  
> 2: I'm a little aro, and dont experience much romantic attraction  
> that being said, even though this is a 3rd person story that focuses on Brendon, you wont really know too much about whats going on in his head. I'll try my best of course lmao but if Brendon seems really too far away, please let me know because I probably dont know I'm doing it. I'll put trigger warnings at the beginning of chapters that need them. Thanks and hope you like it!

Brendon’s mom was overreacting. Well she was  _ always  _ overreacting but this was really  _ really  _ overreacting. Brendon had run downstairs to a dinner he would pretend to eat when he collapsed at the end of the staircase, scaring his mother and siblings half to death. The dizziness he felt when he hit the bottom step was more likely a side effect of the cigarettes he had been smoking out of his bedroom window only minutes before than from his lack of calorie intake but his mom wouldn’t hear it. 

And that's the story of how Brendon Urie got admitted to Clover Fields Care Center for Young Men. It was a program one of Mrs. Urie’s doctor friends had recommended after Brendon slit his wrists when he was 16. When he was 16 he was in an actual locked down psych ward for a week while he was on suicide watch. Clover Fields was different. Or at least that's what the nurse said when they began the tour.

This was a more relaxed program for people who weren’t at immediate risk. It offered more freedom, like the main doors weren't locked and the doors to the rooms were solid without little windows for nurses to peak through. Since the program was for boys ages 18 to 25, there were even designated smoking areas, a realization that almost brought Brendon to tears. He could do weeks without his family and internet, but without nicotine? No way in hell. The building layout was fairly basic; a few rows of rooms with a lounge, kitchen and a front desk situation towards the back. The tour ended at Brendon’s room, 109. His mother left rather quickly, with just a hug and kiss to the cheek.

 

“It’s 9 o’clock now which means its room time until lights off at 10,” the nurse explained. He can't remember her name, it started with a ‘P’ or something. “You’ve been put with Ryan as a roommate. He’s a good kid,” she said. 

 

Brendon just nodded, expecting as much as the nurse knocked twice and opened the door. 

 

“Ryan?” she called. 

 

The room was simply set up; a twin bed with a dresser and a desk and chair next to it, mirrored on the other side of the room as well, though on the other bed sat a kid that looked like the lead member of a shitty Beatle cover band. He wore floral, flowy sleep pants, mismatched striped socks, and a faded Third Eye Blind shirt. 

 

The man, Ryan, looked up at his name with a small smile. “Evening Priscilla,” he said, his voice slow and rather emotionless. He let the book he was holding open close on the bed. 

 

“This Brendon, he’s going to be your new roommate. I trust you’ll make sure he’s comfortable?” she asked. 

 

“I’ll try my best,” The man smiled anxiously.

 

“If you need anything, I’ll be at the nurses station, but Ryan can answer any questions you have in the meantime,” She explained. “You don’t take any evening meds, right Brendon?” 

 

Brendon shook his head. 

 

“Great. Have a good night boys,” She said, shutting the door behind her when she left. 

 

Silence enveloped the two boys. Brendon awkwardly grabbed his bags, shoving his clothes into his dresser. 

 

“So how old are you?” Ryan asked, breaking the silence. 

 

“18,” Brendon replied, not making eye contact as he shoved the remainder of his clothes into the bottom drawer. “You?” 

 

“I’ll be 20 in a couple months,” Ryan said. 

 

Brendon knows how it goes with a new roommate. He’s been on both sides before; being the newcomer and being the veteran, trying to make the new feel welcome. He knew what kind of awkward acquainting questions Ryan was bound to ask him but it didn't stop him from feeling nervous anyways. “Cool,” He replied simply. 

 

There was a few moments of silence as Brendon sat on his bed, back to the fall, facing Ryan. 

 

“You ever been in a program like this before?” He asked, picking at the edge of his torn book cover.  _ The Great Gatsby.  _ At least the boy had decent taste in literature. 

 

“Not really,” Brendon said. “I was in hospital once, two years ago but this seems a lot more lax,” he said with a short puff of a laugh. 

 

“Yeah,” Ryan said, grinning back. “Its nice being in a place that doesn't have cameras every two feet.” 

 

Brendon nodded, looking around at the camera-less corners of the white room. 

 

Another few moments of silence, then “So uh, what brings you here, if you don't mind me asking,” Ryan asked. 

 

He knew that was coming. He pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging them. “I uh, don't really know, everything my mom says goes in one ear and out the other right now,” Brendon deflected. 

 

The older boy cringed, squeezing his eyes and fists tightly together. “Shhh” he said in a strained whisper. He ran his hands through his hair, pulling, seemingly trying to calm down. Ryan corrected himself quickly, as if snapping out of a trance. 

 

“Sorry,” Ryan said sheepishly. “I’m schizophrenic.”

 

“That must be… scary,” Brendon said after a beat.

 

Ryan shrugged. “Hey you mind if I shut off the light? My meds kinda knock me out,” he said. 

 

“No, go ahead,” Brendon said. He got under the covers of his bed. He was already in sweatpants and a sleep shirt. (His mom quite literally bringing him straight to Clover Fields after the Accident). 

 

“Night, Brendon,” Ryan said, flicking off the light and getting into his own bed. 

 

“Night,” Brendon replied, shutting his eyes and waiting for sleep he knew wouldn't come. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo shout out to Julia for beta-ing for me! I'm super pumped about writing this whole thing. Please note that I updated the tags with more things (that could potentially be triggering.)

 

Brendon rolled over for what must have been the billionth time. He could feel the cheap springs digging into his spine. He sighed, rolling onto his back, trying to evenly disperse his body weight like those people that lay on nails. A whimper from the boy across the room shook him from his thoughts. Ryan let out a low hiss, turning to bury his face in his pillow.

 

Brendon rolled over again, facing Ryan. The older boy was breathing hard now, tightly fisting his sheets. He groaned something into his pillow that Brendon couldn’t make out. He shifted again.

 

“No, No.” Ryan curled up. “Please,” he begged. “Stop, please, get away, stop!” he exclaimed.

 

Brendon sat up. He should probably wake him up. He’d want to be woken if he were having a nightmare.

 

He crept out of bed, hesitating before dropping a hand to his shoulder. “Ryan?”

 

“No,” he protested, jerking his shoulder away.

 

“Ryan,” Brendon tried again.

 

“Please,” he groaned, tugging at his hair hard enough that it looked like it hurt.

 

Brendon pulled the older boy’s hands from his hair. “Ryan!”

 

Ryan’s eyes shot open and he practically flew back against the wall.

 

“Sorry,” Brendon said, taking a step back. “You were just… it seemed like you were-”

 

“No, thank you for waking me,” He said a little awkwardly.

 

Brendon shuffled back to the edge of his bed, sitting down. “D’you wanna talk about it?”  

 

Ryan hesitated.

 

“Sometimes it helps,” Brendon began again softly. “To have another point of view.”

 

Ryan relaxed a little, Brendon’s words seeming to bring some comfort. “It was about my dad,” he said. “Again.”

 

Brendon waited for him to continue but he didn't.  A shape underneath Ryan’s bed caught his eye.

 

“Is that a guitar?” Brendon asked.

 

“Wha- oh,” Ryan leaned to look over the edge of his bed. “Yeah, do you play?”

 

Brendon nodded. “And you do too, I assume.”

 

“Not as much as I used to,” Ryan admitted. He pulled the acoustic out from under his bed, holding it out to Brendon. He took it tentatively.

 

“It hasn’t been tuned in a couple of months,” he said offhandedly.  

 

Brendon strummed it a few times. He tuned the strings the best he could by ear. It sounded good enough. The low E string was a little too low but he couldn't find a happy medium.

 

Ryan’s eyes clenched shut as he let out a low growl, getting Brendon’s attention. His hands flew to his hair. “Please-” he began, voice cracking. “Keep talking, it makes it go away.”

 

“Can I play instead?” Brendon asked.

 

Ryan nodded.

 

Brendon picked a few chords that he’d been playing with for the past few weeks. He could feel Ryan watching him, the anxious energy radiating off him starting to subside.

 

_“Allow me to exaggerate a memory or two, Where summer's lasted longer than, Well longer than we do”_

 

“That’s pretty, what is that?” Ryan interjected.

 

Brendon smirked. “That’s interrupting.”

 

Ryan blushed and mumbled something that could be a “sorry”. He sank into his pillows again.

 

“ _When nothing really mattered, Except for me to be with you. But in time we all forgotten_ ” He smiled to himself. “ _And we all grew,”_  

 

Ryan pulled one of his pillows under his arm, burying his face in it.

 

“Not done with the lyrics yet,” He muttered, and began the next part of the song. “ _Your melody sounds as sweet, As the first time it was sung…_ ”

 

Brendon looked over to Ryan to tell him he was all out of lyrics, but he was already fast asleep.

 

He let the chord ring out, smiling to himself again as he set the guitar down. When Brendon got back into bed, covers pulled up to his ears, he was surprised to feel sleep actually coming for him.

 

~*~

 

Brendon was woken up with someone shaking his shoulder. “Don’t touch me!” He exclaimed, recoiling.

 

“Oh-” Ryan gasped. “I- I’m sorry.” He said. “I forget that some people don't like to be touched.”

 

Brendon deflated at the other boys earnestness. “It’s okay,” he replied, rubbing his eyes and forcing himself to remember where he was. “What’s going on?”

 

“It’s time for breakfast,” Ryan said, wringing his hands.

 

“Oh.” Brendon said. He could feel the emptiness in his stomach, the one that was always kinda there. “I think I’ll pass.”

 

“You don't have to eat.”

 

Brendon tried to hide his cringe at the word. Ryan didn't notice.  

 

“But you do have to go. Participation is a big thing here.”

 

Brendon just looked at him for a minute, deciding what to do.

 

“Thank you,” Ryan began suddenly. “-for playing for me last night, you have a beautiful voice.” He seemed to force the words out, his cheeks scarlet.

 

“Oh. No problem.” Brendon said, ignoring the compliment. He’d surely be blushing too if he weren't so disoriented. Ryan smiled in response.

 

Brendon cursed as his stomach made a sound. The last time he ate was two nights ago, and while he wished he could, he really couldn’t function without a little bit of food. He groaned, rolling out of bed.

 

“Fine.” He decided. “Show me the way.”

 

~*~

 

The hallways of Clover Field were laid out to make a square, the center of the square being a courtyard filled with flowers and trees and benches to sit on. The cafeteria along with the other common rooms branched off from the outer sides of the square.

 

The cafeteria was a modest sized room with those picnic bench style tables that Brendon remembered from middle school. There was a queue of people lined up with blue trays to get their breakfast.

 

“You can sit with me if you want.” Ryan said, walking toward one of the smaller round tables that were situated at the edge of the room.

 

Brendon nodded along, following the older boy to the table. They sat at the back of it, facing the rest of the cafe.

 

“I’m gonna get food, you wanna come?” Ryan asked.

 

“Nah, I’m really alright.” Brendon said, looking down.

 

“I could grab you something if you prefer,” Ryan offered, watching Brendon’s face for his reaction. He shook his head again. “Suit yourself.” Ryan said, getting up and getting into line.

 

Brendon took the time to take in the other patients around him. It seemed rather calm for a program of this nature. A few boys of different ages were milling around tables and trashcans, laughing and talking to each other in hushed tones.

 

Brendon was snapped out of his thoughts as a boy with bright red hair approached his table.

 

“Hey!” The boy said in a high voice. “Who are you? Are you new?”

 

“Yeah, I’m new-”

 

“Hi New, I’m Gerard!” He said with a grin.

 

Brendon returned a polite smile at the joke.

 

“Have you seen Mikey? I can't find my Mikey.” Gerard said with a pout.

 

Brendon’s brows came together. “Mikey? Who’s Mikey?”

 

“Mikey Way! Mikeyway Mikeyway! He’s my little brother!” Gerard ran his hands through his hair a few times.

 

Ryan came up behind Gerard, a frown on his face. “Hey, Gee. Whatcha doing?” he asked in his monotone voice.

 

“Hi Ryan!” Gerard exclaimed. “I was just asking- I was just asking…”

 

“Brendon.” Brendon supplied.

 

“Brendon! Right. I was just asking Brendon here if he’s seen Mikeyway, I can't find him anywhere!”

 

“Why don’t you go find Frank, Gerard. He might know where Mikey is.” Ryan suggested.

 

“Frankie’s in lockup.” Gerard said with a devilish grin.

 

“What’d he do?” Brendon asked.

 

“He was cheeking his Percs again,” Gerard began. “Gathered 9 this time before the nurses caught on.” He said with a giggle.

 

“Gerard!” One of the nurses called suddenly.

 

Gerard rolled his eyes before spinning around. “I’m comin’ Janis, don't get your panties in a twist.”

 

Ryan sat down while Brendon watched a nurse lead Gerard out of the room.

 

“So that’s Gerard.” Ryan said, breaking the silence.

 

“Yes it is.” Brendon replied.

 

The smell of Ryan's eggs were doing conflicting things to Brendon’s stomach. It clenched in pain and simultaneously made him want to puke.

 

Ryan took the orange off his tray and rolled it to Brendon wordlessly.

 

Brendon risked a glance at Ryan, but he was busy shoveling scrambled eggs onto a piece of toast. He reluctantly began peeling his orange.

 

“So where _is_ Mikey?” Brendon asked, stacking the peels in a little pile.

 

Ryan grimaced a little, swallowing his mouthful. “Well his headstone’s in Jersey.” Ryan replied, taking a sip of orange juice.

 

“What?” Brendon asked. “Gerard was talking about him like-”

 

“I know.” Ryan said.

 

“You sure do interrupt a lot, you know that?”

 

Ryan chuckled, ignoring him. “Mikey Way died in a fire almost a year ago now.”

 

Brendon ate a wedge of his orange, waiting for Ryan to continue.

 

“The story goes that Gerard's dad used to beat the shit out of the two of them, but especially Mikey,” Ryan paused, shutting his eyes and shaking his head rather violently. “One night their dad beat Mikey so bloody that Gerard thought he was dead. He was devastated and absolutely furious with his father so he burned the fucking house down, killing both his parents.” Ryan let out a frustrated sigh, tugging on his hair again.

 

“Holy shit.” Brendon said, at a loss for any real words.

 

“Yeah, but here's the worst part: Gerard's dad didn't actually beat Mikey to death. Mikey Way’s official cause of death was asphyxiation.”

 

Brendon’s jaw literally dropped. “And- and Gerard doesn't know?”

 

“No, he definitely knows. I just don't know if he believes it.”

 

“How do you know all this?” Brendon asked.

 

Ryan shrugged, starting on his next piece of toast. “I mean, it's technically a rumor, it's not like the nurses can talk about it. I heard it from Frank. Him and Gee have the same therapist and I guess he saw a newspaper from the day it happened. ‘Family of three dies in freak accident’.”

 

Brendon shook his head, suddenly feeling sick. He pushed the remaining half of his orange away.

 

“Oh,” Ryan began. “I'm sure it's common sense, but don't mention Mikey’s death to Gerard. Try not to bring it up at all if you can help it.”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Brendon said.

 

Ryan seemed to be in some kind of trance when he was telling Gerard's story. His voice was even flatter than usual, his eyes unfocused on the opposite wall, but he seemed to come back, turning to Brendon with a small smile.

 

“Morning, boys!” A voice said.

 

The nurse that Gerard had been talking to dragged a laptop on a cart over toward Ryan.

 

“Morning, Janis.” Ryan smiled.

 

“How'd you sleep last night?” She asked, clicking on a few things.

 

“Not the best, I'm afraid.”

 

“Nightmares again?” She asked, typing quickly.

 

Ryan looked down and nodded.

 

“He can't hurt you anymore, Ry.” She said softly.

 

Ryan's whole body tensed, his head cocking to one side. Brendon watched him force his eyes shut. His gazed flickered between Ryan and Janis. She sighed.

 

“I'm Janis.” She said turning her attention to Brendon and holding a hand out.

 

He shook it. “Brendon.”

 

“How was your first night, Brendon?”

 

“Not too bad _.”_ He replied honestly.

 

He couldn't help but look at Ryan as he took a deep breath and opened his eyes again.

 

Ryan's eye caught his and he blushed, looking down at his eggs again.

 

“That's good to hear,” Janis smiled. She typed something again. “You'll have your first appointment with Dr. Uma this morning. She'll come get you.”

 

Brendon nodded.

 

Janis set down a medicine cup with a few pills in it in front of Ryan. He took them in one gulp, washing them down with his orange juice. She jot down a few notes on her computer before leaving.

 

“After breakfast we can go back and get changed, brush your teeth or whatever but then we have morning group.”

 

“Morning group?” Brendon asked.

 

“Yeah, just so you can meet everyone and hear what's going on for the day.” Ryan replied, picking up his tray.

 

Brendon grabbed his orange peels and followed Ryan to the trash.

 

~*~

It was a quick walk back to their room. They passed Gerard who was sitting outside a door. A pale hand was sticking out from under the small gap. Gerard picked at the hand’s chipping black nail polish, whispering incoherently.

 

Ryan entered the room first, immediately pulling his shirt over his head. Brendon’s eyes dropped to the floor. He shuffled past Ryan, grabbing a change of clothes and heading into the attached bathroom, locking it behind him.

 

Before he could really even process what he was doing, Brendon turned on the sink and dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, letting his clothes fall to the ground. He shoved his fingers down his throat, vomiting into the toilet.

 

He had only meant to eat one or two wedges of the orange but Ryan’s voice distracted him into eating almost a _full_ half. He gagged one more time, cursing at the noise.

 

“You okay in there?” Ryan asked, knocking on the door a few times.

 

Brendon’s heart leapt into his throat. He flushed the toilet, stood up, and shut off the water.

 

“Yup!” Brendon called back weakly.

 

Ryan didn’t respond, but Brendon could hear him walking away. He let out a sigh and washed the stomach acid off his fingers and rinsed his mouth. Brendon changed out of his pyjamas into a loose hoodie and some jeans before leaving the bathroom.

 

“Holy shit, did I just come out of a time machine?” Brendon asked.

 

Ryan sat on the bed in the craziest outfit Brendon has ever seen. He was wearing these paisley bell bottoms with a clashing patterned button down. The guitar had stickers of flowers on it, something that Brendon didn't notice in the dark last night.

 

“What?” Ryan asked innocently.

 

“I feel like I just walked into a 70’s sitcom.” Brendon laughed.

 

“Oh come on,” Ryan protested. “You wish you had pants like these.”

 

“Mmm,” Brendon hummed, squinting at the other boy. “Y’know, I don't think I do.”

 

“Don't worry. I’ll let you borrow them sometime.” Ryan smirked.

 

“Like they would even fit me.” Brendon scoffed under his breath, looking down. He tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry basket at the end of his bed.

 

Ryan opened his mouth to respond, but a moan came from the other side of Brendon’s wall, making them both freeze.

 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “For fucks sake.” He muttered.

 

Ryan crossed the room, leaned over Brendon’s bed and banged on the wall. “Weekes, get your fucking fingers out of your ass, it’s not even 10am!” He called through the wall.

 

“Fuck off, Ross!” Came a reply from the next room.

 

Brendon burst out laughing, doubling over. “Has this happened before?” He gasped out.

 

Ryan was laughing now too. “Yeah, he’s so fucking loud.”

 

“Stop fucking talking about me!” Weekes called again.

 

Ryan just began laughing harder.

 

~*~

 

This first morning group was in a fairly large conference room. Mismatched couches and arm chairs lined the perimeter of the room, making a circle.

 

Ryan sat with Brendon on a loveseat that was beginning to fall apart. There were already a few people in the room when the entered. A boy with a bright pink Mohawk was nodding along to a very young looking kid who seemed to be telling a story.

 

Gerard was sitting on a far couch, talking quietly to a guy with almost shoulder length black hair, hands laced together.

 

The rest of the patients filled in, followed by a woman in pant suit who shut the door behind her. She looked like she belonged in an office, not a psychiatric facility.  

 

“Good morning, everyone,” she began, taking a seat in the circle. “I'm Dr. Jackson and I'll be running today's morning meeting. We have a new face with us today, so why don't we go around and introduce ourselves. Ryan, how about you start. Why don't you tell everyone your name, age, and a little about yourself?”

 

“I'm Ryan,” Ryan began, voice even. “I'm 19 and I'm here because I hear voices.”

 

“Shit, how much do we have to share?” A boy with black hair that hung in his face asked.

 

“Language please, Pete.” She scolded. “Just as much as you're comfortable with.”

 

To the left of Ryan was a guy with strawberry blonde hair and thick glasses.

 

“I'm Patrick,” he began. “I'm 21 and I have depression and anxiety and-” Patrick mumbled something Brendon couldn't make out.

 

“I'm Bob,” the next guy in the circle said. “I'm 24 and the reason I'm here isn't any of your goddamn business.”

 

Dr. Jackson sighed.

 

“Bob usually isn't out of lockup for more than a few hours.” Ryan whispered.

 

“Hey, I'm Pete. I'm 22 and apparently I get really angry sometimes.” The next man said.

 

“Apparently?” Patrick asked with a laugh.

 

“Stuff it, Stump.” Pete grinned.

 

Patrick flipped him off in response.

 

There was a moment of silence as the next guy in the circle was looking down at his hands.

 

“Mr. Walker?” Dr. Jackson prompted.

 

His head flew up. “Oh, I'm Jon Walker. The Bass Player.”

 

Gerard let out a high pitched maniacal giggle from his side of the room. “Adding ‘the bass player’ doesn't help anyone recognize you, you’ve played like 3 and a half live shows.”

 

Jon scowled at him. “I’ve played 6, thanks.”  

 

“I'm Dr. Jackson, but I've already said that.” She said before Gerard  could say anything else.

 

“Frank.” The boy with nail polish said. “ ‘m 23. Here for drug shit ‘n anger.”

 

“Boundaries please boys.” Dr Jackson said, eyeing the boys’ hands. Frank pulled his away from Gerard, eyes downcast.

 

“You already know who I am.” Gerard winked, his sharp teeth locked in a smile.

 

“I'm Spencer.” The next boy said, eyes glued to the ground. “I'm here for EDNOS and anxiety.”

 

“I'm Dallon, 25.” Dallon said. He pushed his light hair out of his face. “I'm here to work on Manic bipolar, anger and… being a sex addict.” He said, eyes flickering over Brendon.

 

Brendon tensed, crossing him arms over himself self consciously.

 

“Don't you have to be able to get laid to be a sex addict?” Ryan asked challengingly.

 

“Oh shut the fuck up, Ross.” Dallon replied.

 

“I don't think you're in a position to be telling me to quiet down, Weekes.”

 

Dallon’s face went red and Brendon paled at the realization that that was the boy that was fingering himself on the other side of his wall.

 

“That's enough.” Dr. Jackson said. “Tyler?” She asked.

 

Tyler was tiny, his arms housing multiple blackout tattoos.

 

“Well you know my name now,” he began, playfully glaring at Dr. Jackson. “But I'm 17 and I have multiple personalities.”

 

Brendon nodded.

 

“And this is Josh!” Tyler said, resting a hand on Mohawk boy’s shoulder. “He doesn't talk, but he's here because he's a sad nerd.”

 

Josh tried to suppress a smile, fondly swatting at Tyler's arm.

 

Tyler gasped. “He hit me.” He said with mock seriousness, facing the doctor. “I want all his privileges cut for the week!” He exclaimed.

 

“You done with the theatrics?” Pete asked.

 

Dr. Jackson spoke before it could escalate. She was good at that. Brendon imagined she'd have to be to deal with a room full of rowdy boys.

 

“Do you want to tell us a little bit about yourself, Brendon?”

 

“Uhh,” Brendon began. “I'm Brendon, I'm 18 and I'm from Vegas. And I'm here for depression I guess.”

 

Suddenly the door swung open, grabbing everyone's attention. A young woman stuck her head in. “Brendon?” She asked.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You're going to see Dr. Uma now.”

 

Brendon stood up, and Ryan's hand shot out as if to grab his shoulder, but he stopped at the last minute.

 

“Good luck.” He said instead.

 

Brendon replied with a smile.

 

~*~

 

Dr. Uma was an older looking woman with straight blonde hair and a nose that reminded Brendon of a beak. She waited for the door to shut and Brendon to sit before she even looked up at him.

 

“Good morning, Brendon,” she began. “I’m Dr. Uma.”

 

“Hi.” Brendon said awkwardly.

 

“First things first.” She shuffled a few papers on her desk. “How was your first night? I’ve heard you’ve taken a liking to Ryan?”

 

Brendon bit his nails, suddenly feeling defensive. “ ‘s fine,” He shrugged. “Ryan’s nice.”

 

Dr. Uma nodded. “So I don't know how much he has told you about this program but you are obligated to participate in at least two groups each day. One therapeutic and one recreational. You’ll sign up for the therapeutic ones now.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Your choices are a group to work with family issues, one for drug and other types of addiction, one for anxiety and social skills, one for eating disorders and self esteem, anger, and one for depression, BPD, self harm and other intense mental illnesses. Any pique your interest?”

 

“The family one.” Brendon said. “And the depression one.”

 

Dr. Uma wrote a few things down. “We should go over your history today, too,”  She said, opening a file. “It looks like you were hospitalized two years ago for a suicide attempt. Wanna tell me a little bit about that?”

 

“Yeah, I uh, slit my wrists.” Brendon said.

 

“Does that have anything to do with why you’re here today?”

 

“No.” Brendon replied.

 

“Okay, let's start there then. What brought you here?”

 

Brendon didn't respond.

 

Dr. Uma sighed. “Brendon, if you want to get better you have to open up, I’m afraid.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with me though!” Brendon exclaimed. “Yeah, I’m a little depressed and I smoke too much, but that’s it.”

 

The doctor flipped through his file. “Your mother said you haven’t been eating.”

 

Brendon scoffed.

 

“You fainted from malnutrition and or dehydration.”

 

“Do I look like I have the body of someone who is _malnourished?”_ Brendon spit with disgust.

 

Dr. Uma shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what you look like. You have the symptoms.”

 

Brendon rolled his eyes.

 

“You're pale, your hair and skin are dull and you're experiencing vertigo.”

 

Brendon just shook his head, eyes on the floor.

 

“It seems like we’ve done enough for today,” Dr. Uma began. “I have to recommend that you sit in for one of the eating disorder groups.”

 

“But-”

 

“I get it, Brendon, I do, but recovery is a decision.”

 

Brendon rolled his eyes again, storming out of the room. He didn't need some doctor telling him what was wrong with him. He knew what was fucking wrong with him, he was fucking disgusting.

 

He stomped through the halls back to room 109. He pushed through the door, letting it slam behind him.

 

“Jesus!” Ryan jumped, dropping his book down on the bed where he was laying.

 

Of course Ryan had to fucking be here to watch Brendon freak out. Like he didn't have enough against him already.  

 

“Sorry.” Brendon barked.

 

Ryan sat up. “Do you wanna talk about it?”  

 

Brendon deflated as the other boy’s warm eyes studied him. He sat on his bed with a huff.

 

“What kind of music do you like to play?” Brendon asked, changing the subject.

 

Ryan cocked an eyebrow at him. “I like Queen a lot, but I can’t play that. I can play some Third Eye Blind and Counting Crows. Uh, Sixpence None The Richer, NOFX, Blink 182, The Killers. Pink Floyd?”

 

Brendon nodded. He didn't have bad taste.

 

“Can you play something?” he asked quietly.

 

Ryan didn't respond, but the sound of acoustic guitar flooded the room. “I can only remember how to play like, three things right now.” Ryan said with a laugh. “Slow Motion by TEB, Colorblind: Counting Crows, or Fuck Her Gently by Tenacious D.”

 

Brendon grinned at the floor, letting out a laugh.

 

“There it is,” Ryan began in his slow drawl, making Brendon look up. “There’s that smile.”

 

Brendon dropped his gaze again, blushing furiously.

 

Ryan played the opening riff to Slow Motion as best he could, having to stop a few times, picking random notes in an attempt to find the right ones. It wasn’t exact, but it was close enough.

 

“I should warn you that I can't sing.” Ryan said with a sad smile, but he began anyways.

 

“ _Ms. Jones taught me english, but I think I just shot her son,_ “ Ryan’s voice was shaky and unsure, but it was beautiful. “ _Cause he owed me money, with a bullet in the chest you cannot run,_ “

 

“You can sing, you fucking liar.” Brendon interrupted.

 

“Sing with me.” Ryan replied. “ _Now he’s bleeding in a vacant lot, the one in the summer where we used to smoke pot._ Come here, I can't hear you.”

 

Brendon rolled his eyes fondly, crossing the room and sitting next to Ryan on his bed.

 

“ _I guess I didn't mean it, but man you should’ve seen it, his flesh explode.”_ They sang together.

 

Brendon was watching Ryan’s long fingers dance across the frets, but he couldn’t help notice Ryan smiling broadly out of the corner of his eye.

 

They entered the chorus, Brendon’s voice easily harmonizing with Ryan’s. “ _Slow motion see me let go, we tend to die young, slow motion see me let go,”_  

 

Brendon could see the goosebumps on Ryan’s neck. Ryan turned, feeling the weight of Brendon’s gaze.

 

“There’s a fluff in your hair, can I get it?” Ryan whispered after a beat.

 

They were closer than Brendon thought. He swallowed hard, nodding.

 

Ryan carefully carded his hand through Brendon’s bangs, pulling out the piece of fluff. Brendon had to force himself not to let his eyes flutter shut. He couldn't help it, his eyes dropped to Ryan’s lips and back again.

 

Ryan seemed to notice, studying his eyes carefully. He ran his hand through Brendon’s hair again.

 

“Time for group!” A loud voice yelled, breaking Brendon out of his trance. He stood up quickly, his vision going dark.

  
“I uh-” Brendon began. “I’m sorry.” He said, and practically sprinted out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey dudes hope you enjoyed. Gerard is an actual angel and I love him to death. Come yell at me: count-me-away-before-you-sleep.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self Harm TW  
>  Shout out to @serialhandholder for beta'ing me

Brendon burst out of his room and started down the hall. He didn't know where he was going until he pushed into the courtyard. Gerard was sitting in the flowers, across from a dark haired woman that couldn't be more than a couple years older than him. Maybe 27 or 28. He perked up when he saw Brendon frozen in place. 

 

“Hi Brendon!” He waved. 

 

The woman turned around and gave him a small smile. 

 

“Hi.” Brendon replied. 

 

Gerard frowned, getting up. He walked through the flowers over to Brendon. 

 

“You okay?” He asked. 

 

Gerard seemed like a completely different person. He was calm and serious, something Brendon hadn’t seen before. 

 

“Yeah,” Brendon said dismissively. “I don't wanna interrupt whatever you're doing.” He said, gesturing between Gerard and the woman. 

 

“Oh, that's just Lynz. She’s a hypnotherapist.” 

 

“A  _ hypnotherapist?”  _ Brendon asked, waiting for Gerard to elaborate. He didn't. “She seems kinda young.” 

 

“Yeah,” Gerard said. “Frankie doesn't like her.” 

 

“Why not?” 

 

“He thinks she flirts with me.” He said quietly.

 

“Does she?” 

 

Gerard shrugged. “Doesn't matter. I love Frankie and he knows that.” 

 

“That's good.” 

 

Lynz got up and walked over to the two of them. She seemed to be watching Gerard carefully. 

 

“Why don't you go take a seat Gee, so we can finish?” She said. 

 

Gerard nodded a few times, his eyes fluttering like her voice was putting him to sleep. He took a few steps back, sitting back down in the flowers. 

 

“He’s still under.” Lynz explained quietly. 

 

“Still  _ under? _ Like under hypnosis?” Brendon asked. 

 

“Exactly.” Lynz said. She looked passed Brendon out the glass door. “Actually…” she began. “Can you just watch him for a second, I have to take care of something.” 

 

“Is he… okay? Do I have to do anything?” He asked. 

 

Lynz shook her head. “He’s just very open right now, might try to talk about his problems. Like all of them. He won't remember anything after I wake him so don't take advantage of him or anything. I really gotta go, though.” She pushed past Brendon and ran into the hall. 

 

Brendon furrowed his brow, shuffling over to Gerard and taking a seat next to where he was laying. “Can I ask you something?” 

 

Gerard nodded, arms and legs spread out like he was making a snow angel. 

 

“Are you close with Ryan?” Brendon asked. 

 

“I like to think so, I’ve known him a while.” 

 

Brendon wanted to ask how long, but it seemed wrong since he was in such an honest state. He felt bad enough for the questions he was about to ask. 

 

“He’s a good guy, right? Like not judgemental or anything?” 

 

“Ryan?” Gerard half slurred. “Nah, Ryan’s a sweetheart. A little fucked in the head, but a sweetheart. Why?”

 

Brendon could feel his cheeks heating up. He pushed past his embarrassment and forced the words out. “I think we almost kissed.”  

 

“Yeah?” Gerard giggled. “When?” 

 

“Just now. I ran out.” 

 

Gerard sat up. “You ran out? Why didn't you kiss him!”

 

Gerard wouldn't remember the conversation right? “I don't wanna fuck it up, man. I fuck everything up. He’d probably reject me anyways.” 

 

“Take it slow then. Be his friend first. You seem like a good kid, I don't see why he wouldn't like you.” 

 

Brendon sighed. “I really appreciate it, Gerard.” 

 

“Course.” He replied. 

 

Brendon stood up. He should really get to group, maybe apologize for running out on Ryan. He went to the glass door, looking for Lynz when two voices made him stop. 

 

“Just because it didn't work for you, doesn't mean it isn't working for him.” One of the voices snapped. It sounded like Lynz. 

 

“He forgets shit after you wake him. Shit about  _ me _ , and it's replaced with shit about  _ you _ . You could be feeding him lies that he interprets as truth.” The second voice said in a harsh whisper. Brendon couldn't make out who it was, but it was a male’s voice. 

 

“You’re paranoid, Frank. He tells me everyday that he loves you.” 

 

“I’m not fucking paranoid, Lynz. I’ve done your therapy, I’ve heard what you said when you thought I was under.” Frank spit. 

 

There was a moment of silence. “I don't know what you mean.” 

 

“Yes you fucking do, you witch. You were asking me about him. You asked me about my feelings for him.” 

 

Brendon couldn't bare to listen any longer. He pushed through the door, pretending to be surprised at Frank and Lynz’s hushed conversation. 

 

“I uh, gotta go to group.” Brendon said. 

 

“Okay,” Lynz said. “I’ll take care of him.” 

 

Frank scowled, taking off down the hall. 

 

~*~

 

Brendon had no idea where to go. He walked down the hall until he came upon the front desk. A male nurse sat at his desk, typing away. 

 

“What can I do for you?” He smiled as Brendon approached. 

 

“I’m supposed to be in group, I think.” Brendon replied. 

 

“Do you know which one?” 

 

Brendon shook his head. 

 

The man spun around in his chair, picking up a clipboard, eyes scanning it quickly. He raised a brow. “Looks like Dr. Uma has you down for every group. To ‘get to know your peers and decide what you need to work on’” He read. “You're in a self esteem group in 4A right now.” 

 

Was Dr. Uma trying to punish him for storming out? What could Brendon possibly gain from anger or addiction groups?  

 

“Thank you,” Brendon said anyways, making his way down the hall. 

 

~*~ 

 

Brendon entered the lounge room, cutting Spencer off mid sentence. He gave Brendon an expressionless glance and continued talking as he took a seat. 

 

“I’ve tried just going to the gym to gain muscle but I ended up running for two hours.” 

 

The woman running the group nodded. “Could you try weight training at home?” 

 

Spencer shook his head with a shrug. “I can't afford to get weights right now.” 

 

“What’s your goal for today, Spencer?” 

 

“Ideally? Not have a panic attack if I eat more than a few cucumbers at lunch.” 

 

It seemed like a pretty small group to Brendon. Besides himself and Spencer, the only people there were Patrick and Josh. 

 

“Good.” The woman said. “I think that's very doable. How about you Josh? Did you complete your last goal?” 

 

Josh paled as the attention was turned to him. He shook his head once, fast enough that Brendon almost missed it. 

 

“Are you sticking with the same goal today?” She asked. 

 

He shook his head again. 

 

“Was it too much too soon?” 

 

He nodded, bouncing his knee. 

 

“Okay, but you have a new goal?”

 

He nodded. 

 

“Great.” She met Brendon's eye for the first time since he entered. “Welcome to the group, Brendon. I'm Fiona, we're just going over our goals for the day. Would you like to talk a little bit about what brings you here with us?” 

 

Brendon shook his head. No fucking way. The only thing worse than disgust was pity. Nobody needed to hear how lowly Brendon thought of himself. 

 

“How about a goal then?” She asked. “One hard thing you can do today. It could be as small as attending a meal, there's no wrong answer here.”

 

Brendon knew how to get out of this. It wasn’t hard to tell doctor what they want to hear.

 

“Wanna try to be less negative with how I view myself.” Brendon said with ease. It was good goal but Brendon doubted he could do it.

 

“Okay, good!” Fiona said. “What can you do to accomplish it?”

 

“Keep myself occupied I guess.” He shrugged. 

 

“That's a great goal, Brendon,” Fiona smiled. “I think that's it today.”

 

“Is the group usually so small?” Brendon asked. 

 

“Ryan usually comes.” Patrick said. 

 

“I haven't seen him since breakfast.” Spencer commented, shifting in his chair. 

 

“Yeah,” Patrick said. “You're his roommate right? Is he okay?” 

 

“I don't know.” Brendon replied. “I could go check on him, I suppose.” 

 

“The group’s over anyways.” Spencer shrugged. 

 

Brendon took that as an invitation to leave, making his way to the hall. 

 

Brendon entered their dark bedroom, surprised when he didn't find Ryan on his bed. His patterned button down was laying in the middle of the floor. 

 

“Ryan?” 

 

No response. 

 

Brendon's attention was drawn to the bathroom door. It was cracked open, light flooding out. Brendon felt his stomach drop. Something wasn't right. 

 

He stepped forward, pushing the door open.  “Ryan?” He asked again. 

 

Ryan sat on the floor, back against the wall. He was in a t-shirt, bare arms resting on his paisley covered knees. His wrists were flipped up, blood dripping down off his pointy elbows, pooling on the floor. 

 

“Holy shit.” Brendon said, frozen. 

 

“You're supposed to be in group.” Ryan said flatly, eyes glued to the opposite wall. 

 

“Holy shit,” He said again. Brendon forced himself into action, grabbing a wad of toilet paper and dropping to the floor next to Ryan. 

 

He took one of Ryan’s wrists carefully, and then the other, soaking up the blood so he could see the damage. There were only three or four cuts on each arm and they weren’t deep enough to require stitches, but they weren’t that shallow either. 

 

“What did you use?” Brendon asked. 

 

Ryan’s eyes flickered down to the floor on the left of them. Brendon picked up the scrap of aluminum, inspecting it. It was a piece of a soda can. 

 

“D’you have the rest of it?” 

 

Ryan shook his head. 

 

Brendon threw the metal and bloodied tissue into the toilet, flushing it. He grabbed a face cloth off of the sink and wet it with hot water. 

 

“What happened?” Brendon asked quietly, wiping the length of Ryan’s forearms. 

 

Ryan let his head fall back into the tiles with a thunk. “He just wouldn’t shut up.” 

 

“Who wouldn’t?” 

 

_ Thunk. _

 

“The voice,” Ryan said tiredly. “He won't shut the fuck up.”

 

“Did he tell you to do this?” 

 

Ryan nodded, letting his head fall back again, but Brendon slipped a hand in front of the wall just in time, catching the other boy’s head. 

 

“Please stop.” Brendon whispered. 

 

Ryan swallowed, eyes not meeting Brendon’s. 

 

He carefully took his hand away, rinsing the rag with steaming water. He pressed it to Ryan’s wrists, dissolving the dried blood. 

 

“Y’shouldn’t have to do this.” Ryan muttered, looking at the thick white scars on Brendon’s wrists. 

 

“No, I shouldn’t have run out on you like that. It was rude if- if nothing else.” He could feel Ryan watching him, but he kept his eyes down. 

 

“Wait.” Ryan said. “You don't think that I did this because you ran off, right?” 

 

Brendon shook his head. 

 

“Okay.” Ryan replied anxiously. 

 

Brendon stood up, holding out a hand. “Can you stand?” 

 

Ryan nodded, taking Brendon’s hand. He swayed a little when he stood, gripping Brendon’s arm for balance. 

 

The red spots on Ryan’s white t-shirt caught Brendon’s attention. He inspected Ryan’s pants as well, almost laughing when he didn't see a drop of blood on them. It wasn’t fair that the fucking ugly bell bottoms were spared but Ryan’s milky skin wasn't. 

 

“We gotta get you out of this,” Brendon said, tugging at Ryan’s shirt. “People were asking for you at group. I don't want the nurses to come looking for you and find you in this.” 

 

Ryan walked past him slowly. “I wanna go to bed.” 

 

“Ry. you’ll get in trouble.” He said, following the older boy out of the bathroom. 

 

“‘m so tired.” 

 

“Then-” Brendon began. “Then let me do it.” 

 

Ryan paused, the weight of the words filling the air.

 

He turned around, nodding. Ryan lifted his arms as he approached. Brendon slowly pulled his shirt up, gingerly guiding his arms through the holes, pulling it over his head. He tossed it behind him in the general direction of the bathroom. 

 

He could feel Ryan’s eyes burning into him as he searched his dresser for a shirt that would cover his arms. Brendon cursed under his breath. All Ryan had were t-shirts and button ups. He pulled a cotton long sleeve out of his dresser instead.

 

Brendon tried to not let his eyes roam over Ryan’s chest as he walked back over to him, so he made the mistake of meeting his eyes again. 

 

“Gimme your arms.” Brendon said, voice wavering.

 

Ryan held out his arms, letting Brendon feed his hands through the sleeves, making sure not to reopen the wounds. Brendon tried not to think about how good Ryan looked in his loose shirt. 

 

He could feel his cheeks heating up under Ryan’s intense gaze. This was not the time to be getting flustered, he was just changing his shirt. It wasn't that big of a deal. 

 

“Can I touch you?” Ryan asked quietly, close enough that Brendon could feel his breath on his face. 

 

Brendon nodded weakly. That however, was kind of a big deal.

 

Ryan brought his hands up to cup the back of Brendon’s neck, having to wiggle his fingers out from the baggy sleeves. 

 

“Thank you.” Ryan said softly, pulling Brendon into a tight hug. “For everything.” 

 

Brendon wound his arms around Ryan’s waist, practically having to hold the older boy up. 

 

He felt Ryan stiffen, burying his face in Brendon’s neck. “He doesn't like you.” Ryan muttered against his neck, giving him goosebumps. 

 

“Good. I don't like him either.” Brendon replied. 

 

“I think he’s scared of you.” 

 

Brendon opened his mouth to reply, but Ryan groaned, stumbling out of Brendon’s arms and sitting on the edge of his bed. He hung his head, gripping his hair. “He didn't like that.” Ryan said, voice cracking. 

 

Brendon sat next to Ryan, heart racing. He rubbed Ryan’s back, squeezing his shoulders. “Fuck off.” Ryan growled in frustration. 

 

Brendon’s hand stilled, but Ryan leaned into him reassuringly. 

 

“What’s he saying?” He asked quietly. 

 

“Really bad things.” Ryan replied, misty eyes meeting Brendon’s. 

 

“What can I do?” 

 

“Can-” Ryan began. Brendon squeezed his shoulder again. “Can you stay with me while I try to sleep?” 

 

“Yeah,” Brendon replied. “At some point I’m gonna have to go to lunch to cover for us, though. They’ll come looking.” 

 

“Will you be here when I wake up?” 

 

Brendon bit his lip and nodded. He’d try his best. 

 

Ryan crawled under the covers while Brendon stayed sat on the edge of the bed. Brendon rubbed his back as he exhaled peacefully. 

 

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Brendon trying to keep his racing thoughts under control, focusing on Ryan’s rhythmic breathing instead.

 

Ryan jumped, in turn, making Brendon jump.  

 

“15 minutes of peace. That’s all I fucking need.” Ryan muttered angrily. 

 

“Can I sing something for you?” Brendon offered. 

 

“Would you mind?” Ryan asked, looking up at Brendon through his lashes. 

 

“Course not.” Brendon replied. He began singing the first song he could think of, the one that’s been stuck in his head for the past few days. “ _ Don’t think of me like that, just picture me leaving and not coming back, _ ” Keaton Henson was always great for lullabies. “ _ I sat where we sat, just picking the labels and lighting a match. _ ” 

 

Ryan sighed contently. 

 

“ _ Darling, your arms are on backwards, you know. Course you know. Darling, you ache for my love and it shows. Let it go. _ ” Brendon sang softly. “ _ One day you'll drink from my bones and scream as you rip out my throat, Don't let me, don't let me go. _ ” 

 

He finished the rest of the song, making sure Ryan was asleep before getting up. 

 

It didn't take Brendon nearly as long as he thought it would to scrub the blood out of the bathroom. He used Ryan's already ruined t-shirt with some toothpaste and it came right out. 

 

Getting rid of the shirt was a little harder. He washed out as much blood as he could, settling on stuffing it under his mattress for the time being. 

 

He stopped to tell a nurse that Ryan wouldn't make it to lunch on his way into the cafeteria. He scanned the lunchroom, looking for the familiar head of bright red hair.

 

Gerard and Frank occupied half of the table they sat at this morning. 

 

“Can I join you?” Brendon asked as he approached the table. 

 

“Of course!” Gerard exclaimed with a grin. “No Ryan?”

 

Frank offered a shy smile, picking at the remaining polish on his nails. 

 

Brendon sat across from him. “Nah, he’s sleeping.” 

 

“Ah, I see. I'm gonna get food,” Gerard declared. “Save my seat.”

 

Brendon and Frank sat in awkward silence for a moment as Gerard walked away.

 

“So about what I heard in the hall today-”

 

“You didn't hear shit in the hall.” Frank growled, cutting Brendon off. 

 

“No, no, I'm not gonna say anything to anyone,” Brendon said, raising his hands in a surrendering motion. “I get bad vibes from her too.” 

 

Frank deflated a little. “It's more than bad fucking vibes.” He grumbled. “She's a motherfuckin’ witch.”

 

Brendon wasn't sure he wanted to ask if Frank meant a literal witch or not. “Is she really doing what you said she is?”

 

“Yeah, man. Heard it with my own ears, and Gerard tells me all about his sessions. Y’know he forgot my birthday?”

 

“Yeah?” Brendon asked. 

 

“Yeah!” Frank exclaimed. “He remembered  _ hers _ just fine though.  Hey, do you have to go to hypnotherapy?” 

 

“Uh, I don't think so.” Brendon said. “I haven't so far.”

 

“Good. If you have to go, make sure you don't let her put you under. Pretend if you have to.” Frank said, voice dropping to a whisper as Gerard rejoined the table. 

 

“Sooo?” Gerard asked eagerly, nudging Brendon’s shin with his foot. 

 

“So what?” Brendon deflected with a laugh. 

 

“Did you talk to him?” Gerard asked.

 

Brendon froze. “Wait- she told me you wouldn't remember.” 

 

Gerard shrugged. “Some things stick. Others don't.” 

 

Frank didn't look like he believed him. 

 

“So what happened?” Gerard asked again. “You tire him out?” he smirked. 

 

“C’mon, it wasn't like that.” Brendon argued. 

 

“Mmhm.” Gerard said, scrunching up his eyes and blinking hard a few times. “Sure…” 

 

“The fuck was that?” Brendon laughed. “You got something in your eye?” 

 

“No I’m…I’m winking, I’m trying to wink at you, you moron.” 

 

“That definitely wasn’t a wink.” Frank said, cracking a smile. 

 

Gerard beamed at Frank, giving his cheek a quick pinch. “You’re a cutie pie.” he exclaimed. 

 

“Oh fuck you!” Frank said, shoving him. 

 

“I’ll assume you didn't talk to him then.” Gerard said, shoving Frank back. 

 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Brendon shrugged. 

 

“Okay...” Gerard said, unconvinced. “But if you do talk to him, you need to take this as a token of good luck.” He started digging around in his backpack.

 

“Oh,” Brendon began. “You don’t have to give me anything, it’s okay.” 

 

“Yes I do.” Gerard said seriously. “But this is contraband, so you have to be careful.” 

 

Brendon’s brows came together in confusion. 

 

“Aha!” Gerard exclaimed, pulling out a bag, shoving it in Brendon’s lap. 

 

Brendon inspected the baggie. “Is this- This is just a bag of Lucky Charms- Oh my god.” 

 

Gerard grinned toothily at him. “Don't get caught!” 

 

~*~

 

After lunch, Brendon attended his first smoke break. He had somehow missed the morning one when he had therapy. After a cigarette he felt a fuck ton better. Dizzier, but better. No wonder he was so fucking nauseous. 

 

He had intended to check on Ryan before sitting in on the addiction group, but on his way back to his room he ran into Tyler, quite literally. 

 

“Oops.” Brendon said, stumbling back. 

 

“Watch where you’re fucking going.” Tyler spit. 

 

Brendon blinked in response. He was confused, the Tyler he met earlier in the day didn't seem like the violent type. 

 

“You gonna apologize?” Tyler asked, getting in his face. 

 

There was something mildly amusing about such a small boy threatening him. He tried to not let it show on his face, but he must have not done a very good job because Tyler shoved him back. 

 

“Something funny?” Tyler asked. 

 

“Nope.” Brendon tried, biting his lip to conceal his laugh. He could take this kid if he had to. 

 

“You think you’re hot shit don't you?” Tyler challenged. “Fuck you.” 

 

Brendon couldn't help the laugh that escaped his mouth. 

 

Tyler scowled at him, stepping forward and kneeing him straight in the balls. 

 

“Motherfuck-” Brendon exclaimed, doubling over. 

 

“Hey!” A deep voice called. “What’s going on over here?” 

 

Brendon stood up as a large burly man stomped over. 

 

“Nothing.” Brendon said. 

 

The man looked at Tyler who just shook his head with a shrug. 

 

“Tyler, why don't you tell me why Brendon was just doubled over, clutching his groin.” 

 

“Blowjob gone wrong?” Tyler offered. 

 

The man rolled his eyes. “I don't know who I’m talking too, but you’re on thin ice. One more infraction and you’re gonna start losing privileges.”

 

Brendon’s brows came together in confusion. 

 

“Doesn't matter who you’re talking too, Tyler can still hear you.” Tyler said. 

 

Instantly everything clicked. That must have been one of Tyler’s alters. 

 

“Where are you supposed to be?” he asked. 

 

“Who, me or Tyler?” 

 

The man rolled his eyes again. “Just get to your therapist’s office.” He said. “As for you,” he said, turning to Brendon. “You’re with me in the substance group.” 

 

“Oh, okay.” Brendon said, straightening his pants. 

 

The man turned around, walking into a meeting room. 

 

“Sorry we’re late,” he said to the patients already sitting in the room. “I had to take care of something. You can take a seat Brendon.” 

 

Brendon looked around awkwardly. This group was quite a bit bigger than the last one he attended. Spencer and Jon Walker The Bass Player shared a loveseat, Frank and Bob sharing the other one. Dallon sat alone on a couch. When Brendon made eye contact with him, he smiled and waved him over. 

 

“You looked a little lost.” Dallon explained as Brendon crossed the room, taking a seat next to him.

 

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” Brendon said with a small smile. 

 

“Alright.” The man boomed. “Thank you for joining us today, Brendon. You can call me Dr. Double D.” 

 

Dallon snickered. 

 

“Don't you start Dallon, it’s been a weird morning.” The man retorted. “Yes, I’m Dr. Double D, if that makes you uncomfortable, you can call me Dr. D, or just Triple D if you prefer.”

 

“What do the D’s stand for?” Brendon asked. 

 

“Wouldn't you like to know.” He replied. “Okay so let's begin.” 

 

The mans fast topic changes were making Brendon dizzy. 

 

“Dr. Double D is addicted to caffeine pills.” Dallon whispered as quietly as he could. 

 

“He also has supersonic hearing.” Dr. D said. “Since you're so talkative today, why don't you begin, Dallon. How are your urges?” 

 

Dallon rolled his eyes. “Well I've jacked off 4 times already and it's only 1pm, so…”

 

“Do you always have to be so crass?” Dr. D asked, actually getting upset now. “Is everything always with hard with you?”

 

“Oh you know it is, Doc. Isn't that the problem?” Dallon winked easily. 

 

The room erupted in half-suppressed giggles. 

 

“Don't encourage him.” Dr. D complained. 

 

“Oh, come on,” Dallon drawled. “Everyone would fuck me. Brendon’s known me for like, 6 hours and he'd fuck me. Right Brendon?” 

 

Brendon paled. 

 

“Yeah, right Brendon?” Frank giggled. 

 

“Uhh..” Brendon said, cheeks heating up. 

 

“Just shut the fuck up, Weekes. Sex addiction isn't even real.” Bob interrupted.  

 

Jon Walker The Bass Player snorted. “And marijuana addiction is? Who the fuck gets addicted to  _ weed? _ ” 

 

“What was that, Walker?” Bob asked, cupping a hand around his ear dramatically. “I couldn't hear you with Spencer's cock in your mouth.” 

 

“Don't fucking drag me into this.” Spencer grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

 

“You girls done?” Frank asked. 

 

“Hey, that's sexist.” Jon exclaimed. 

 

“Enough.” Said Dr. D, sounding rather worn out. 

 

“Dude I wear fucking nail polish, how the fuck am I sexist?” Frank spit back, face scrunching in confusion. 

 

“Enough!” Dr. D boomed, making Brendon jump. “One more word, Weekes. I swear to god.”

 

Dallon held his hands up, surrendering. 

 

Dr. D deflated, the redness visibly draining from his face again. It really was a good thing Dallon stopped because it looked like Dr. D was about to go into cardiac arrest. 

 

“Spencer.” Dr. D said calmly. “Are you feeling any better than yesterday? Cravings still there?”

 

“They're worse, thanks.” Spencer replied tensely. 

 

“Just taking one bump- instead of taking three- after you start coming down doesn't count as tapering, Spencer.” Dr. D retorted. 

 

Spencer blushed, shamefully looking down. 

 

“You're strong, Spencer,” Dr. D began, voice softer. “You gotta know you're strong right? You've come so far since you first got here. The people that care about you, myself and this group included, want to see you succeed because we know that you can. I promise it'll get easier.”

 

Spencer swallowed hard, his eyes downcast. “Thanks.” He nodded, voice tight. He blinked quickly. “Really.” 

 

Dr. D smiled at him warmly. He was a weird man, honestly, but Brendon liked him. He really seemed like a good guy. 

 

“Frank, how are you handling the withdrawal?” Dr. D asked, smoothly switching the subject. 

 

“Feels like my body is rejecting itself.” Frank said, running a hand through his hair. He did look kinda pale, Brendon noticed. 

 

“That’s normal for narcotic dependency. You’ll sweat it out in a couple days.” 

 

Brendon ended up spacing out for most of the group. It’s not that he didn't care- well… that might have been part of it. The only person he even sort of knew was Frank, and Frank had stopped talking like, 10 minutes ago. What he was really worried about was Ryan. He said he’d be there for him after lunch when he woke up, and thanks to Tyler- or whoever that was- he couldn't do that. And it was driving him crazy. 

 

When group finally ended, Brendon practically sprinted out of the meeting room, down the hall to room 109. He didn't bother knocking before quietly pushing into the room. The room was still dark, but Ryan was no longer asleep. 

 

He sat up against the wall, arms around the knees that he had snuggled close to his chest. Tears stained his cheeks and blood stained the sleeves of his shirt. 

 

“Jesus, Ryan I’m so sorry.” Brendon said. 

 

Ryan’s head snapped up. “No,  _ fuck _ .” he began, voice soft. He just sounded so defeated, it broke Brendon’s heart. “None of this is because of you, you need to know that. It’s just really shitty timing.” 

 

“Okay,” Brendon said, crossing the room. “I believe you. What happened, though?” He asked. 

 

Ryan shook his head, eyes downcast. 

 

“Can I see your arms please?” 

 

Brendon could physically feel Ryan’s hesitation. 

 

“Yeah.” He said eventually. 

 

Brendon joined Ryan on his bed. He was like a ragdoll, eyes unfocused on the opposite wall as Brendon pulled his arms away from his knees. He gently pulled Ryan’s sleeves back. The sleeves were dried to his skin, reopening the cuts when it was ripped away.

 

Ryan jerked away suddenly, pulling the sleeves back down. 

 

“Shit, sorry. That hurt?” Brendon asked. 

 

Ryan shook his head. 

 

“What happened?” he asked again. 

 

“Doesn't it bother you?” Ryan asked quietly, changing the subject. His eyes dropped to Brendon’s scars for the second time that day. 

 

Brendon sighed. Sure, he hadn’t cut himself in a long time but he couldn’t deny the way his heart raced when he found Ryan, arms dripping a delicious crimson, the way his heart was racing now.

 

“A little.” He replied honestly, rolling Ryan’s sleeve back down. He cautiously slid his hand into Ryan’s, intertwining their fingers.  “It’s nothing I can't handle.” 

 

“But you shouldn’t have to take care of me. I shouldn't be putting you in this position.” Ryan said, not meeting his eyes. 

 

“Would you have stopped if I hadn’t come back early from self esteem group?” Brendon asked, the question leaving his mouth the second it entered his head.

 

“That-” Ryan began. “That's not the point.” 

 

Brendon sighed, brushing Ryan’s knuckles with his thumb. “It is what it is, okay?” Brendon said after a moment. 

 

“‘S not fair to you.” Ryan mumbled. 

 

Brendon traced over Ryan’s fingers with his free hand. “Seeing other people… bleed… doesn't bother me. I used to, uhm,” Brendon cleared his throat. “I would have to help my sister  _ clean up _ .” 

 

Brendon felt Ryan tense slightly. “What?” 

 

“I found her once. Like I found you.” He began, Ryan’s grip tightening. “She was drunk. She gets drunk a lot now. But yeah, I have to patch her up from time to time.” he shrugged. 

 

Brendon could remember the first time he found Audrey like it was yesterday. She stumbled into their conjoined bathroom, sometime early in the morning, like 5 am or something. The noise woke Brendon from his fitful sleep. 

 

Random noises in a house of seven- er, six, were a commonplace. It wasn't something that would usually warrant Brendon to get out of bed, but he could feel something was wrong. The dread swirled in his stomach as he crept out of bed, slipping into the bathroom. 

 

Audrey was in the empty bathtub, arms spread and she bled into the tub. Brendon remembered comparing her pose to that of crucified Jesus. Angry red lines marked all the space on her pale arms. It was like her arms were more blood than skin. They weren't deep, that was clear from the way the blood was beading up. She was just watching the blood flow together, onto the white porcelain. Brendon was speechless, only letting out a squeak, though making her turn nonetheless. 

 

“Shit!” She exclaimed, uselessly flipping her arms over, like she could cover herself in time. “Brendon, I- please don't tell mom.” 

 

Brendon had done the same thing he did with Ryan, cleaning her arms without a word. He ignored the stench of booze and cheap cologne wafting off of her, ignored the pale white lines that laid underneath the smeared blood, ignored the way she cried, begging not to tell mom. 

 

And he didn’t. Though he couldn't help but wonder when she started doing in. If it was before or after Brendon slit his wrists, and unfortunately, it was probably after. 

 

It wasn't the only time it happened, either. She was worse now, coming home more wrecked than alcohol alone could make her. 

 

“I didn't know you had a sister.” Ryan said softly, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

 

“Yeah, two actually. Both older. I have two older brothers too.” 

 

“I’m still sorry.” Ryan said after a beat. He leaned into Brendon, resting his head on his shoulder. 

 

Brendon exhaled, releasing the tension in his body. 

 

“Do you like it here so far?” Ryan asked, voice slightly muffled from where it was pressed against Brendon. 

 

“Yeah,” Brendon breathed out with a puff of a laugh. “Dr. Double D seems like a cool dude.” 

 

Ryan laughed, nuzzling Brendon in a way that made his stomach flip. “Dr. Double D’s the fuckin’ best.” 

 

~*~

 

Brendon didn't mean to spend the rest of the evening in his and Ryan’s room, talking to him about absolutely nothing, but he did. And it was great. 

 

Brendon had barely registered that the time passed until a nurse he hadn’t seen before came knocking. Brendon moved reluctantly from Ryan’s bed to his own as the man entered. 

 

“Night meds.” He said, holding out a little cup of pills for Ryan. 

 

“Thanks, Tim.” Ryan replied, knocking them back. 

 

“Gerard and Frank were looking for you two at dinner.” Tim said as he began his exit. Brendon figured that was his subtle way of chiding them for skipping. 

 

“We’ll see ‘em at breakfast.” Ryan replied with a smile as Tim shut the door behind him. 

 

Brendon flopped back on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. 

 

“Best time to play music is room time.” Ryan commented, pulling his guitar out. “You gonna sing for me?” 

 

Brendon bit his lip, cheeks heating up. “You want me to?” he asked, head rolling to look at Ryan. 

 

“Scoot.” Ryan said, pushing at Brendon’s side. Brendon recoiled, praying Ryan wouldn't notice, but no such luck. 

 

“Shit,” Ryan said, squatting at the edge of the bed. “Did I hurt you?” Ryan’s eyes widened. “You didn't- Brendon.” 

 

“What? No, Ryan I’m fine, I don't... do that.” Brendon said, holding a hand up. 

 

“Then please explain to me what just happened so I can stop assuming I just grabbed open wounds.”

 

Brendon opened his mouth to explain, but nothing came out. What the fuck was he supposed to say? ‘Sorry Ryan, I'm being a bitch because you're grabbing at the grossest parts of me?’ That's not gonna fly. 

 

“C’mon, show me.” Ryan said, eyes hot on Brendon. 

 

_ Okay _ that's worse, shit, shit  _ shit _ . 

 

“Ryan I- look, you gotta trust me here, I didn't cut myself.”

 

Ryan was chewing on his nails. “If you have nothing to hide, then prove it.”

 

“Why are you being so weird about this?” Brendon exclaimed, stomach beginning to cramp. He was sucking in even harder with all Ryan's attention on his middle. 

 

“Why  _ am I _ being weird about this? Why are  _ you?”  _ Ryan replied, matching his tone. “I trust you, Brendon but if nothing happened why won't you just show me?” 

 

“Because I'm fucking disgusting  _ okay _ ?” Brendon spit, cheeks red. He got up, pushing past Ryan and his shocked silence. “Jesus.” 

 

“Brendon, you-” 

 

“Leave it alone.” Brendon said, storming out into the hall. 

 

He didn't know where to go. To the garden he guessed, pushing out into the cold air. 

 

He shifted awkwardly, making his way to one of the small stone benches. He didn't even notice Dallon sitting on the ground until he cleared his throat. 

 

Brendon hastily rubbed away the tears that  _ definitely _ weren't streaming down his cheeks. 

 

“Hey,” Dallon said. Before Brendon could even blink, Dallon was perched on his heels between Brendon’s parted legs. He rested his forearms on Brendon’s knees. “You’re too pretty to cry, what happened?” Dallon asked softly. 

 

Brendon scoffed at his remark, not meeting his eyes. 

 

“Hey, I mean it.” Dallon insisted, wiping his cheeks with his thumbs. “Pretty brown eyes.” he mumbled, stroking his jaw lightly. 

 

Brendon was too exhausted to bother tensing at Dallon’s contact. And besides, it was… nice. He let himself melt into the touch. 

 

“What are you doing out here?” Brendon asked instead. 

 

“Full moon tonight.” Dallon replied, glancing up. Brendon followed his gaze, jaw dropping at the stars that littered the sky. 

 

It was a lot darker here than right outside Vegas. Brendon lived farther into the country when he was young, but he couldn't remember seeing stars like these before. He could practically see galaxies. 

 

“Wow.” Brendon whispered. Dallon’s hands slipped from his face to the sides of his neck. 

 

Dallon chuckled, thumb tracing the tendons in his neck. They locked eyes.

 

“Did Ryan hurt you?” He asked, voice becoming serious. “‘Cause I’ll knock his lights out, just say the word.” 

 

Brendon bristled. “No, God no, he’s fine. It’s just… me.” 

 

“I don’t know what happened, but you’re a good person, okay?”

 

Brendon sighed, hand hooking onto Dallon’s wrist. He could feel his heart rate picking up as Dallon’s eyes flickered to his lips. 

 

He licked his own lips, letting Dallon lean in, letting him kiss him, soft and slow. He gripped Dallon’s wrists harder, letting him lick into his mouth. 

 

He noticed when Dallon was flirting with him in group earlier, he wasn't an idiot, but he still wasn't used to it. People didn't flirt with him. It just didn't happen. He’s had some random flings that barely lasted the whole night and few relationships, but people didn't  _ openly flirt _ with him. Especially not people like Dallon. 

 

Dallon was the exact kind of guy that Brendon usually went for: older, confident, and likely to shove him against a fucking wall. The kind of guy that wouldn't care if you kept your shirt on as long as his dick was in your mouth. But also, not a complete asshole. They were a rare breed. 

 

Dallon’s kiss wasn't demanding. He just took his time, like he didn't  _ want _ anything from Brendon. It was kinda weird, but Brendon let himself enjoy it, because kissing was kissing, even if you only kind of liked the person you were kissing. 

 

Brendon sighed as Dallon’s grip tightened, one hand going back to Brendon’s knee, squeezing. His hand slid up a fraction of an inch, then a full inch. 

 

Brendon gasped, pulling away. He could see his breath in the cool air, puffing against Dallon’s lips. 

 

“Okay?” Dallon asked. 

 

“Mm, yeah.” Brendon said, feeling like he just did something bad. “I just- should probably go to sleep. They’re already on me for ditching dinner.” 

 

“Oh okay.” Dallon said, standing up. He stepped back, laying down on the concrete, eyes to the sky. “You know where to find me.” 

 

Brendon nodded, wordlessly entering the building again. He numbly walked back to his room, forgetting that Ryan was just inside, waiting for him with a heavy topic of conversation. 

 

Ryan was standing in the middle of the room, still chewing on his nail. It was like he didn't move at all. His eyes lit up as Brendon entered, shutting the door behind himself sheepishly. 

 

“I'm really good at running away.” Brendon said as sort of a peace offering. 

 

Ryan nodded, looking contemplative. He waved Brendon over, lower lip between his teeth. 

 

Brendon took a step into the room, but Ryan impatiently met him halfway, wrapping his arms around Brendon’s shoulders. 

 

Brendon sighed, licking Dallon off his lips before wrapping his arms around Ryan’s skinny waist. 

 

“You’re beautiful.” Ryan mumbled, lips dangerously close to Brendon’s neck. 

 

Brendon literally flinched in disgust, but Ryan just held him tighter. 

 

“You are.” Ryan went on. “You are so, so beautiful.” 

 

“Ryan-” Brendon managed. 

 

“No.” Ryan said, pulling his face out of Brendon’s neck, looking him in the eye. “I can't see you how you see yourself, but to me? You’re  _ so _ fucking beautiful.” He said, voice dropping to a whisper. 

 

Brendon kept his eyes locked on Ryan’s bobbing adam’s apple, not trusting himself to keep it together if he met Ryan’s eyes. He had nothing to say. Ryan was making a damn good argument. 

 

He swallowed hard. Ryan’s hands took the place of where Dallon’s were only minutes before on his neck, though this time, he shivered. 

 

He inhaled deeply, trying to compose himself. He could feel Ryan’s eyes on him, he had no choice but to look up.

 

But Ryan’s eyes were on his lips. And Brendon froze. He didn't have the most solid morals, sure, but kissing two people in the span of like, 5 minutes, was a little much. Though if he knew Ryan was gonna kiss him, he never would’ve fucking kissed Dallon. Why did God hate him?

 

He really wanted to kiss Ryan. Like, really fucking bad, and he had the opportunity to, but… 

 

Ryan surged forward suddenly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, lingering for just a second. Fast enough that Brendon didn't even have time to react. 

 

Ryan stepped away with a quick squeeze to Brendon’s shoulder. “Goodnight, Brendon.” Ryan said, something hiding in his tone. 

 

“Goodnight?” Brendon said, trying to hide his confusion. 

 

Ryan flicked the light switch off and crawled into his bed, facing the wall. Brendon followed suit, but he could tell it was going to be a restless night. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot happens in this chapter lmao, check the tags

 

Brendon blinked at the ceiling, spacing out, looking at the swirls in the spackle. 

 

“Brendon?” Ryan whispered from his side of the room. “You awake?” 

 

“Yeah.” Brendon replied in the same hushed tone.

 

“You don't hate me right? For what happened… earlier?” Ryan asked. “He’s saying you do.” he added. 

 

“No, not at all.” Brendon said, rolling over to look at the older boy. He looked like he was blushing, but it was hard to tell in the darkness. People kissed their friends, that was a thing people did, Brendon rationalized. 

 

“Okay.” Ryan replied softly. Brendon could hear him worrying his sheets between his hands. “You promise?” 

 

Brendon couldn't help but smile. Ryan was so fucking cute that it was disgusting. “Yes, I promise, get over here.” Brendon scooted back against the wall, making room for Ryan to crawl into bed with him. 

 

Ryan crossed the room, arms folded tightly around himself. He hesitated at the side of the bed, his eyes glossed over like he was remembering the earlier exchange. 

 

“C’mon,” Brendon said, tugging on Ryan’s sleeve, pulling the blankets back. “It’s cold, get in.” 

 

Ryan slid in next to Brendon, burying his face in Brendon’s chest, his hands trapped between them. Brendon’s hands found their usual place around Ryan’s waist. 

 

“Thank you.” Ryan whispered so quietly that Brendon wouldn't have even noticed if it weren’t for the breath hitting his neck. 

 

Brendon gripped Ryan tighter in response, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. 

 

~*~

 

Brendon didn't even remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembered was Ryan wrapping an arm high up around his waist while he managed not to flinch. 

 

He was very aware that he was awake, however. The bright hospital-style lights were burning through his eyelids, but Ryan was still snuggled into his side, so it couldn't have been him who turned them on. 

 

He snapped his eyes open at the thought. Someone had been in their room. Someone had seen them in the same bed.  _ Shit _ . 

 

No one was in the room at least. The clock read 6:56, only four minutes to breakfast. 

 

“Hey,” Brendon said, nudging Ryan with his knee as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Time to get up.” 

 

~*~

 

Brendon was called out of breakfast early to meet with Dr. Uma. She looked sleep deprived herself, leaning over a steaming cup of coffee. 

 

Brendon picked at the hole forming in the seam of his sweatpants. 

 

“Good morning, Brendon. How’d you sleep?” She asked, something in her tone putting Brendon on edge. 

 

“Uh, alright once I finally got to sleep.” he answered cautiously. 

 

“You usually only meet with me once a week, don’t worry, I just need to talk with you about something.” Dr. Uma explained, doing nothing to calm Brendon’s nerves. 

 

He waited for her to continue. 

 

“So you’ve gotten pretty close with Ryan, which is great, it’s great to have friends here, but the staff and myself are worried about your dependency on each other.” She said, putting her cup down and folding her hands across her lap. “I think it would be best if you had a little space from him.” 

 

Brendon’s eyes widened. “But-” 

 

Dr. Uma held up a hand, silencing him. “It’s not like I’m having you sent to one of our other clinics in New Jersey or Chicago, Brendon, I’m just moving you next door with Dallon.” 

 

Brendon blinked at her, fists clenched. “You can't be serious.” 

 

“Deadly.” She replied. “It’s just to see if you’re more receptive in a different setting. Experimentation is important on the road to recovery.” she said, like that somehow fixed everything. 

 

“You said yourself that it’s good to have friends! You’re a fucking hypocrite, this makes no sense.” Brendon exclaimed. 

 

“The two of you are too close. Not only do we discourage relationships between patients here, but it’s getting to the point where you’re missing groups and meals to spend time together. Brendon, you’re one missed meal from being put onto an eating plan. Do you understand?” 

 

“ _ What? _ ” Brendon asked, forcing himself to stay seated. She just dropped a fucking bomb at 7:15 in the morning, and what the hell did she mean  _ ‘relationship’ _ ? Ryan was just his friend, obviously.

 

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” Dr. Uma said. “You’ll move your stuff this morning, before you attend group.” 

 

Brendon stood up wordlessly. He felt like he was in a dream. 

 

There was no way in hell they could make him eat. Over his literal dead body maybe. “Fuck you.” Brendon spit. 

 

Dr. Uma didn't even flinch. “See you next Tuesday, Brendon.” she said, eyeing the door. 

 

Brendon rolled his eyes, stomping out of the office with a huff. What the fuck was her problem? 

 

He was fairly numbed out again by the time he got back to his room. 

 

“Hey!” Ryan said with a beaming smile as he entered.

 

“I’m moving.” Brendon said gloomily, shuffling into the room. 

 

“What?” Ryan asked, eyes widening. “What- what happened?” 

 

“They said we were getting too close.” Brendon said. 

 

“Oh.” Ryan said, running a hand through his hair, tugging lightly. “Where are you moving? Not far, right?” 

 

“No,” Brendon began, shifting. “Just next door with Dallon.” 

 

The color drained from Ryan’s face. “Brendon... there’s a reason why Dallon and I had to stop being roommates. He’s a sex addict.” 

 

It hadn't even crossed Brendon’s mind that Ryan didn't have a roommate before him. “What happened with you and Dallon?” 

 

Ryan blinked like he didn't expect the question. He didn't answer. 

 

“...alright then.” Brendon said hesitantly. 

 

“I’m sorry Brendon, this is all my fault. I know better, I should’ve been more careful. I’m kind of a clingy person and some people don't always understand.” 

 

Brendon shook his head. “No, Ry, you’re fine. I’m just gonna miss you- uh, miss singing with you. And stuff.” he stuttered out, cheeks red. 

 

Ryan smiled bashfully, picking at the skin on his lower lip. “‘M gonna miss you too.” Ryan said, crossing the short distance and pulling Brendon into a hug. He understood why Ryan hugged him so much now, at least. _He was a clingy person._ “Be careful though,” Ryan cautioned. “He  _ will  _ try to seduce you.” 

 

Brendon exhaled heavily. “Oh, I know.” 

 

~*~ 

 

It didn't take Brendon and Ryan long to move Brendon’s things into his new room. Dallon’s bed was on the left side, a heavy, colorful quilt was folded neatly at the end of the bed. 

 

That time that they heard Dallon moaning, it was like he was  _ right  _ on the other side of the wall. It occurred to Brendon that he hadn't heard Dallon moan at all after that. Maybe he only recently moved to the left side. That would mean that Brendon was about to sleep on the bed where Dallon had his fingers inside himself. 

 

This was gonna be an absolute car crash. 

 

Ryan left quickly like he couldn't stand to be in there. Brendon had ignored that pang of jealousy he felt when he asked about Ryan’s past with Dallon. It wasn’t fair, especially because all Dallon would have to do is ask and he’d get on his knees. And he was gonna ask, obviously, because he’s Dallon. 

 

Brendon decided when he left Dr. Uma’s office that he was gonna stop doing everything, stop going to group, meals, therapy, but he failed to realize that that would be the only time he would be able to see Ryan. 

 

He spent the rest of the day in his new bed, eyes glazed over. Toward the end of the day, he could hear Ryan strumming his guitar on the other side of his wall. He scooted up against it, pressing his ear flat so he could hear better. 

 

He had never heard the song before, but it was good. He only caught a few lyrics, “ _ Prescribed pills to offset the shakes, to offset the pills, you know you should take it a day at a time. _ ” 

 

He sighed, picking at a crack in the wall when the door opened. 

 

“Woah.” Dallon said, stopping short, eyes shamelessly roaming over Brendon. "Uh..." 

 

“No one told you?” Brendon asked, sitting up. 

 

Dallon shook his head, pulling his jacket off and tossing it into the laundry. “Something did happen, then.” Dallon said. 

 

“They said we were getting too close.” Brendon said. 

 

Dallon burst out laughing. “They think you’re getting too close and they put you with  _ me _ .” He said, not bothering to hide his smirk. 

 

Brendon swallowed hard. “Yup.” He managed, throat feeling dry. 

 

“I like to get to bed kinda early, if you don't mind.” Dallon said. 

 

“Yeah, that's fine.” 

 

Dallon pulled off his shirt next. Brendon averted his eyes as best he could to the wall in front of him. We watched Dallon out of the corner of his eye as he pulled off his pants. 

 

“Is it gonna bother you if I sleep naked?” Dallon asked. 

 

_ Crash.  _

 

“N- You do you.” He replied. 

 

“Good.” 

 

Brendon heard another piece of clothing land in the laundry basket. Boxers. Brendon kept his eyes glued to the ceiling, not even blinking when Dallon shut the light off. 

 

“Night, B.” He said, his sheets rustling. 

 

“Night, Dal.” he replied. 

 

Dr. Uma was a fucking idiot. 

 

~*~

 

Brendon tossed and turned but ultimately decided on just laying on his back, eyes unfocused on the ceiling. If he stared long enough, his brain would start playing tricks on him. He was probably just drifting in and out of sleep paralysis or something, but he could see things. Swirls and shapes like he was cloud gazing. 

 

He didn't notice at first when Dallon’s breath caught. Or the second time. The third time he figured Dallon was probably just having a nightmare, or like, sleep apnea or some shit,  but like an idiot, he looked over. 

 

Dallon’s back was arched, hand moving under the blankets. 

 

Brendon gasped silently, inhaling his own saliva. He spluttered against his will, having to roll over to cough into his pillow. So much for subtle. God fucking hated him. 

 

Dallon froze. 

 

“I don't know what just happened.” Brendon said after a good 3 seconds of just staring at each other in confusion. 

 

“I’d apologize, but I’m not really that sorry.” Dallon replied. 

 

Brendon nodded, mainly to himself.  The tension was so thick, Brendon felt like he was choking.

 

“I- I’d probably be done faster if you helped.” 

 

Experimentation was important on the road to recovery, right? Fucking Christ. “Yeah,” Brendon began. Dallon sat up. “Yeah, probably.” 

 

Brendon swung his legs over the side of the bed, ready to get up, but Dallon was already in his space, pushing him back down onto his bed. Dallon was so  _ tall _ , but still managed to be so sneaky. 

 

Dallon’s lips were on his, his hands pinned up over his head. He was going to have bruises tomorrow from the way Dallon was gripping his wrists. He kissed down Brendon’s jaw, biting into his neck  _ hard _ . 

 

“Can’t help you if I can't touch you.” Brendon said, head rolling back to give Dallon more access. 

 

Dallon grinned at him. “You got a mouth on you, don't you?” he asked, spreading Brendon’s knees so he could kneel between them. “That's hot. Some people are kinda afraid of me for whatever reason.” 

 

“Should they-  _ shit _ .” Brendon’s neck was gonna be a disaster. Dallon was seriously going to draw blood. “Should they be?” 

 

Dallon chuckled darkly, making Brendon shudder. “Nah.” Dallon said unconvincingly. “Take your pants off.” 

 

Dallon eased off Brendon’s wrists, sitting back on his heels. Brendon should've known better than to think he’d just jack Dallon off and call it a night. He slipped his sweatpants off. He wasn't wearing anything underneath. 

 

“Touch yourself for me.” Dallon said, stroking himself lazily. “Show me what you like.” 

 

Brendon cheeks flushed. He wrapped a hand around himself, trying to push down his embarrassment. 

 

Dallon was watching him hungrily. 

 

Brendon whimpered as he used his thumb to spread the pre-come over his length. 

 

“Fuck.” Dallon whispered breathily, knocking Brendon’s hand away and replacing it with his own. He copied Brendon’s movements, making him let out a low moan. 

 

“C’mere.” Brendon mumbled, grabbing Dallon by the hair, pulling him forward. Their teeth clashed together, practically splitting Dallon’s lip. 

 

Brendon reached between them to grab Dallon’s cock, matching his pace. Their hands bumped clumsily. 

 

“Roll on your stomach.” Dallon said, moving back toward the end of the bed. 

 

Brendon did what he was told, watching Dallon over his right shoulder. Dallon spread his cheeks, licking from his balls to his hole, tongue dipping in. 

 

Brendon let out a guttural moan, shoving his face in his pillow in an attempt to silence himself. No one had ever really taken the time to eat him out before. 

 

“Be as loud as you want, baby. Nurses can’t hear you from here.” 

 

Brendon groaned in response, arching his back, trying to give Dallon a better angle. Dallon grabbed his hips, pulling Brendon so he was on his knees, face still smushed into the pillows. 

 

Dallon licked into him again, over and over. Brendon could feel choppy moans leaving his mouth with every thrust of Dallon’s tongue, but the only thing he could hear was his racing pulse thrumming in his ears.

 

“So good for me.” Dallon muttered. 

 

“Don't stop. Please.” Brendon practically choked out. He didn't recognise the sound of his own voice.

 

Dallon complied, alternating between licking and sucking and biting and kissing. Brendon bit into his pillow. 

 

“I’m gonna come, Dal, please.” 

 

“Go ahead.” Dallon said, reaching around to give Brendon’s cock a few short pulls before he came onto his sheets.

 

“ _ Fuck _ .”  Brendon breathed. 

 

He got up, using his discarded sweatpants to clean up. 

 

Dallon stood up next to Brendon, taking the pants from him and throwing it into his basket. “On your knees.” he said. “Please.” he added, smile sickly sweet. 

 

Brendon dropped gracefully to his knees, taking Dallon into his mouth. 

 

“I’ll do all the work baby, you just sit there and look pretty.” Dallon said, one hand threading through Brendon’s hair, the other cupping his jaw. 

 

That was something Brendon was used to. He was good at that, letting people fuck his mouth. All he had to do was relax his throat, keep his teeth out of the way, and focus on breathing through his nose. 

 

Dallon wasn't too rough either, apologizing if he thrusted too far, and giving Brendon a second to compose himself if he gagged. He was mumbling half-coherent words of encouragement the entire time, too.  

 

“You gonna be good, let me come in your mouth?” Dallon asked breathlessly, his hip movements becoming sloppy. 

 

Brendon nodded the best that he could around Dallon’s length. Dallon came with a choked moan, fingers digging into Brendon’s scalp. 

 

Brendon swallowed it all, licking his lips after. 

 

“You’re not even real.” Dallon said, helping him off his knees. He pressed a kiss to Brendon’s lips, soft and unfairly sweet. 

 

Brendon giggled, mainly because he didn't know what else to do. 

 

“Sweet dreams.” Dallon said with a wink, going back to his side. 

 

Brendon took a deep breath. He pulled some clean boxers out of his dresser and got back into bed. He curled up tight, post cotial. At least he’d probably be able to get to sleep now. 

 

He should probably feel some kind of guilt. He liked Ryan, in a way that he hadn’t ever liked anyone before, and it was scary, but Brendon also liked sex. He knew that Dallon was just using him, but that was fine, because he was using Dallon back. Ryan had already expressed that he could be clingy, come across as romantic. They were just friends and that was fine. He had Dallon now.

 

That was pretty fair. Right? He tried not to think about it. His attention was drawn back to the sound of the guitar. The chords were sloppy, strumming pattern not making sense. It sounded like Mr. Brightside. 

 

_ “And she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now, let me go.”  _

 

~*~

Brendon didn't sleep a wink. Well, he might have, but he was definitely awake more of the night than asleep. 

 

He decided to get out of bed early to try and grab a shower. He stopped in his bathroom first, brushing his teeth and assessing the situation on his neck. Yeah, Dallon fucked him up a little bit. It looked like he just got out of a cage fight. 

 

He left his room, grabbing a towel from the cart on his way to the shower room. The shower room was a single person thing, not like a locker room, thank God. It was literally just a room with a shower, the shower curtain being velcroed to the ceiling so people couldn't try to hang themselves. 

 

On his way around the corner, he bumped into Dr. Uma. She had her bag slung over her shoulder, she was just coming in. 

 

Brendon froze. 

 

“Jesus Christ.” Dr. Uma said, eyeing his neck. 

 

“What did you think was gonna happen? He’s a fucking sex addict!”

 

“Yeah, but you aren't.” She replied. What the fuck.

 

Brendon ran his hands through his hair angrily. He didn't respond. 

 

“Come to my office with me.” Dr. Uma said, not waiting for Brendon to accept before walking down to her door, unlocking it. 

 

Brendon followed. 

 

She switched on the light and put her stuff down. Brendon took a seat while she poured coffee out of a canteen into one of the mugs on her desk. 

 

“Alright.” She said, sitting down. “I’m interested in the way you form relationships.” 

 

Brendon’s brows came together in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

 

“You like Ryan, right?” She asked, taking a sip. “I mean, I assume you do since you clench your fists and get all defensive when I bring him up.” 

 

Brendon unclenched his fists. Shit. “Yeah I do.” He said, deflating. “He doesn't like me though, so it doesn't matter.” 

 

“Did he say that?” 

 

“Basically.” Brendon replied. “He said he was a clingy person and sometimes ‘people don't understand that’.” 

 

“What was the context?” 

 

“I was telling him about how I had to move because you thought we were getting too close.” 

 

“Okay.” Dr. Uma said. She was wearing glasses today. She pushed them farther up on her nose. “Are you sure he wasn't implying that  _ I’m  _ the person that doesn't understand?” 

 

Brendon swallowed. No, he wasn't sure. He shook his head. 

 

“Okay, so you don't know for sure then. That's good.” she said. “Tell me about Dallon now, how’d that happen?” 

 

“I mean, he was flirting with me yesterday in group. He wanted to sleep with me.” 

 

“Do you often sleep with people just because they want to sleep with you?” She asked. 

 

“Uh, I guess I never really thought about it, but…” Brendon began. “Isn’t that how it works? You’re attracted to someone and they’re attracted to you? And then you sleep together?” 

 

“What I'm asking is, are you  _ only  _ attracted to them because they’re showing interest in you?” Dr. Uma asked, taking another sip of coffee. Brendon missed caffeine.

 

He picked at his nails, not responding. Dr. Uma was fucking good at dropping truth bombs. “Why bother liking someone if they don't like you back?” 

 

“Well you’re right, but you can only say that when you know all the facts. You tend to assume things, have you noticed that?” 

 

Brendon shook his head again. 

 

“I have to meet with someone in a few minutes, but I appreciate you opening up a little.” She said with a half smile. “Go take your shower.” 

 

Brendon nodded, mind elsewhere. He got up and left without another word, making his way to the shower. 

 

~*~

 

Brendon was very aware that he showered through breakfast. The water was running cold before he got out. 

 

He went back to his room instead, ditching addiction group. He couldn't be in the same room with Dallon in public, not with the way their necks looked. 

 

He was kinda bored, just sitting on his bed. When he was back in Ryan’s room, he’d play his guitar sometimes. Maybe he could get his mom to bring his electric. He remembered that Ryan missed his own electric. There were phones at the end of each hallway for if you needed to call home. It was a payphone, but you didn't need money to use it. 

 

Brendon left his room, heading toward the phone. He dialed out, punching in his home phone number. 

 

“Hello?” His mother greeted. 

 

“Hey mom, it’s Brendon.”   

 

“Hi sweetie, how are you? I meant to call but I got distracted with work.” 

 

She was using her fake voice. The one she used when she didn’t really care about the answer of the question. 

 

“Yeah, I understand. It’s nice here.” he said. “Sunday’s are visiting days. Do you think you could bring my guitar and amp and everything?” 

 

His mom sighed. “I’m sorry Brendon, I have a business lunch on Sunday. Here, why don't you talk to Audrey, she wants to talk to you. Love you!” 

 

Brendon rolled his eyes. What a convenient excuse. 

 

“Hey Bren!” Audrey exclaimed. “I miss you so much, how do you like it there? Are the people nice?” she rushed. “Any cute boys?” she added in a whisper. 

 

“Keep your voice down!” Brendon whisper-yelled into the receiver. 

 

“Mom left, don’t worry.” She reassured him. 

 

The only one Brendon was out to in his family was Audrey. She was the only one who didn't side with his mom when his dad left. 

 

“Are you doing anything Sunday?” He asked. 

 

“Besides church, I am not!” she replied. “That’s when visiting hours are right?” 

 

Brendon smiled hard. He didn't know what he’d do without Audrey. She was such a good sister. 

 

“Yeah, do you think you could come, maybe bring my guitar and amp and cords and stuff?” He asked. 

 

“Yeah, of course, B.” She said. “Picks, tuner, capo too?” 

 

“Yes please.” Brendon said. God, he didn't deserve her. 

 

“Okay sweet. I’ll come by around noon? I’ll bring lunch!” 

 

“Okay.” Brendon laughed. “Miss you too, can't wait.” 

 

“Love you so much, B. I’ll talk to you soon.” 

 

“Love you too, Audrey.” Brendon said. “Bye.” 

 

“Bye!” 

 

He hung up the phone, smiling to himself. 

 

A low whistle came from farther down the hallway, making his head snap up. 

 

“Damn, Brendon, you get into a fight with a vampire?” Gerard asked, sharp teeth locked in a grin. 

 

Brendon blushed, slapping a hand over his neck. 

 

Gerard’s eyebrow twitched involuntarily. His brows came together like he forgot what he was going to say. “Hey, you seen Mikey?” 

 

“‘Fraid not.” 

 

Gerard frowned. His eyes flickered over Brendon’s neck again, face lighting up. “Those are from Dallon aren't they?” 

 

“Yeah.” Brendon said, suddenly being hit with shame. 

 

“Hey,” Gerard said, walking closer. “Don’t look so guilty. Everyone has slept with Dallon.” 

 

“ _ Everyone?”  _ Brendon asked. 

 

“Well.” Gerard said, rubbing his chin. “Maybe not like, Bob. Or Patrick. Or Tyler or Josh. But yeah, pretty much everyone.” 

 

“Even you?” 

 

“Even me.” 

 

“Did you meet Frank here?” Brendon asked. 

 

“I did.” Gerard said, smile creeping onto his face. “I got here a few months before him.” 

 

“How long have you guys been together?” 

 

“Almost two years.” Gerard said with pride. 

 

Brendon couldn't help but smile back. He hoped he’d find someone to love him as much as Gerard loved Frank. 

 

“You should come to lunch,” Gerard began. “Ryan was asking for you.” 

 

“He was?” Brendon asked. 

 

Gerard smirked. “Yes he was.” He said with a laugh, turning around and walking away. “Cover your fucking neck though, vampire boy.”

 

Brendon exhaled hard. He should’ve asked Audrey to bring him some concealer. 

 

~*~

 

With his lavender hoodie zipped up to his chin, Brendon made his way to the cafeteria. He was super excited to see Ryan and tell him that his sister would be bringing his guitar. 

 

When he strolled in, Gerard, Frank and Ryan were already at their usual table. Ryan had one hand threaded through his hair, the other was stabbing his fork uselessly into a piece of something that loosely resembled chicken. 

 

“Hey.” Brendon said, sliding in next to Ryan. 

 

“Hey!” Ryan beamed, grinning at him. His eyes flickered to his neck, smile faltering for maybe a split second, or maybe Brendon just had shitty perception. 

 

Brendon shifted his hoodie subtly as Ryan’s attention was turned back to Frank. 

 

Brendon ignored Gerard’s anxious gaze as Frank told some story about how he swore he heard his dog say “get fucked”. 

 

“There’s no way in hell that happened.” Ryan laughed. 

 

“I swear to god, one minute I was just sitting there, Sparky comes in, says ‘get fucked’ and then leaves. I was laughing so hard I literally threw up!” Frank exclaimed. 

 

“Okay, but how high were you?” Gerard asked.

 

Frank rolled his eyes. “Listen, just because I mixed ecstasy and booze doesn't mean my story is unreliable,  _ Gerard _ .” He said, not being able to hold back a smile. 

 

“That  _ so  _ doesn't count.” Brendon said. “You must’ve heard him wrong.” 

 

The whole table burst out into laughter. 

 

“Heard him wrong?” Gerard asked through giggles. “Like he said something different?” 

 

“That’s not what I meant!” Brendon said, kicking Gerard’s shin under the table. 

 

Ryan was watching him talk, but looking away anytime Brendon tried to meet his eyes. He noticed Ryan tick, then pull on his hair hard. 

 

“You alright?” Brendon asked quietly as Gerard and Frank continued bickering. 

 

“Great.” Ryan replied with a tight smile. He blinked hard, knuckles turning white as he pulled. 

 

Brendon looked at him skeptically. 

 

“I’m fucking telling you, Gee! My dad said he heard it too!” 

 

“Yeah? Was he drunk too?” Gerard asked. 

 

Ryan whispered something under his breath. 

 

“Fucking probably.” Frank paused to think. “Motherfuck Gerard! My whole life’s a lie now, you asshole.” 

 

“Yea-” 

 

“Fuck! Just-- fuck!” Ryan exclaimed, forehead dropping to the table. The lunchroom fell silent. “Get the fuck out, Jesus Christ, I can't fucking think, just get the fuck out!”

 

“Ryan?” Janice asked, making her way over to the table. 

 

“Don't!” He yelled, head shooting back up. “Don’t touch me.” 

 

Janice held her hands up in surrender. “Why don’t you come with me, Ryan?” 

 

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” He said, voice shaking. His eyes were glossed over, unfocused like he wasn't even seeing. 

 

Janice gingerly put her hand on Ryan’s shoulder. He stood up abruptly, roughly pulling away from her touch. 

 

“Don’t fucking touch me! She said you couldn't touch me!” Ryan cried. 

 

“Oh dear.” Janice muttered, waving someone over that Brendon couldn't see. He was focused on Ryan. He was shaking, absolutely terrified. 

 

“Ryan?” Brendon asked, standing up.

 

Gerard made a warning sound of disapproval. 

 

Ryan jumped at the sound of his voice, spinning around. Brendon watched his eyes fill with tears. 

 

“He knew. He knew and he told me you would,” Ryan began, practically looking through him. “He told me you would but I didn't fucking believe him because I fucking trusted you!” he yelled. “I fucking  _ trusted  _ you.” he said, anger melting into sadness.  

 

Brendon opened his mouth but no words came out. 

 

“You’re dead. You’re dead, and I killed you.” Ryan cried voice cracking. His hands went for his wrists, but a few nurses came forward to grab him before he could. 

 

“Don't touch me!” Ryan yelled as they tried to walk him out of the room. He tried to pull away, but one of the nurses plunged a needle into his thigh. Ryan cried out, trying to pull away again. 

 

Brendon could see the sedative go into effect as Ryan slumped into Janice’s shoulder. His legs gave out and the nurses hauled him away. 

 

Brendon felt like he was going to be sick. He wiped the tears from his cheeks with shaky hands. 

 

“What the fuck happened?” Frank asked. 

 

Gerard stood up and pulled the zipper down on Brendon’s hoodie so Frank could see the marks before quickly zipping it back up again. 

 

“Dallon fucking Weekes.” Frank swore. “I’m gonna kick him in the fucking dick.” 

 

“No you’re not.” Gerard said, voice distant. 

 

“I am Gerard, you wouldn't let me last time, so I’m definitely fucking going to now!” Frank exclaimed, standing up. 

 

“You’re not fucking kicking him in the dick Frank, sit the fuck down.” Gerard hissed, grabbing Frank’s arm hard. 

 

Frank let out a huff of air and sat back down, pouting. 

 

Brendon continued standing there, speechless. He could feel Dallon watching him, but he didn't bother meeting his eyes. 

 

“Bren?” Gerard asked, suddenly next to him. He grunted in response. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

 

“Right.” Brendon replied, too defeated to argue. 

 

“I mean it.” Gerard said. 

 

Brendon shrugged the hand off his shoulder and left. 

 

~*~

 

He was about to thank god that Dallon was leaving him alone when Dallon came into their room, 

 

“They’re going out on a smoke break, figured you could use it.” Dallon said. 

 

Brendon nodded feeling a little guilty. Dallon was a good guy. “You going?” he asked. 

 

“I might. I don't really smoke though,” 

 

“Ah.” Brendon said, getting up and grabbing his hoodie again. He put the hood on this time, zipping it all the way up. 

 

“Sorry for the marks by the way.” Dallon said earnestly. 

 

“Happens.” Brendon shrugged noncommittally. 

 

He made his way to the front desk, getting his cigarettes and lighter from the nurse, and heading outside. He wasn't surprised to see Ryan wasn't there. He didn't think he would be, but he was disappointed nonetheless. 

 

Frank waved him over to where he and Gerard were sitting. They were perched on one of the stone benches. Gerard was talking quietly to Patrick about something while Pete stared off into space, only blinking to take a drag.

He lit up as he sat next to Frank. 

 

“Hey Brendon.” Gerard greeted. 

 

“Hey.” Brendon replied simply. 

 

“You haven't seen Mikey, right?” Gerard asked. Brendon glanced to Frank whose eyes were glued to the ground. He saw him swallow hard, taking a long pull of his cigarette. “The fucker has my lighter. Do you have a lighter?” 

 

Brendon nodded, tossing him his green lighter. 

 

“Hey this is the same color as the one he stole. You sure you haven't seen Mikey?”

 

“Can you stop talking about Mikey for like, ten second for fucks sake?” Pete exclaimed, eyes hard and unreadable. 

 

Gerard visibly bristled. “Keep my brother’s name out of your mouth, Wentz.” Gerard growled. 

 

“You weren't the only one affected, Gerard.” Pete said, voice rising. 

 

“I don't know what you mean.” Gerard said. 

 

“Yes you fucking do, Gerard, you're the one that fucking-”  Patrick clapped a hand over Pete’s mouth. 

 

“I fucking what?” Gerard asked. 

 

“Gee, don't.” Frank said, pulling on his hand. 

 

“What the hell is going on?” Janis asked. “Is it a full moon or something? Jesus.” 

 

“Last night actually.” Dallon said, apparently outside now. 

 

Janis disregarded him. “Not another word Pete, please. You’re better than that.” 

 

Pete wrenched Patrick’s hand off his mouth. Brendon watched him stub his cigarette out unsubtly on the back of his calf. Pete didn't flinch but Patrick did. “It’s not fucking fair.” Pete said angrily, sniffling back tears. “Why does he get to forget and I don't?” He yelled, voice cracking. 

 

“C’mon,” Janis began, holding an arm out. Pete reluctantly got up, Patrick following him and Janis back inside. 

 

“What did I get to forget?” Gerard asked Frank, brows together. He had this expression that Brendon had come to know as his ‘trying to remember’ face. 

 

Frank pushed Gerard’s messy red hair out of his face, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Well, you told me to remind you to write down that idea you had for that comic.” Frank said. 

 

Gerard’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah, shit.” he said, shoving his cigarette between Frank’s fingers and running out the door. 

 

Frank let out a breath of smoke, shaking his head, though he had a faint smile on his lips. “He forgets a lot of normal stuff too.” He explained. 

 

Brendon nodded. “So, they knew each other?” he asked. 

 

“From what I’ve gathered.” Frank sighed. “Pete refuses to talk about anything even closely relating to Mikey and Gerard’s information isn't always… correct. But apparently, Pete met Mikey when his family moved to Jersey for work. They were pretty close for like, the summer and then I guess Pete moved away again and Mikey never mentioned him again. I think something weird happened with them. Like, I think Pete loved him.” 

 

“Oh.” Brendon replied. “And now he resents Gerard?” 

 

“More like hates his fucking guts. It’s sad man, sometimes Gerard will just vent to me about how he doesn't know what he did to make Pete hate him so much.” 

 

“Is Gerard’s hypnotherapy to help him remember or to help him forget?” Brendon asked, taking drag. 

 

“Debatable.” Frank grumbled, finishing his cigarette and starting on Gerard’s. “They’re trying to get him to remember, but who knows what Linz is fucking doing.” 

 

Brendon nodded in response. They finished their cigarettes in silence. 

 

~*~

 

Brendon spent the rest of his day in bed, ear pressed to the wall in an attempt to hear Ryan, but there wasn't even a peep. 

 

Ryan said that  _ he _ knew, and warned him. Brendon could only assume the ‘he’ was the voice. Ryan seemed pretty out of it, like he didn't know what he was saying, but the part about Ryan trusting him seemed directed at him. 

 

It was after Dallon was fast asleep that Brendon got up. He couldn't sleep anyways, so he paced in the garden until the sound of his footsteps were mocking him in the silence. He found himself standing in front of room 109, fist raised to knock. 

 

He knocked lightly, leaning against the doorframe. 

 

Ryan opened the door just a crack, bloodshot eyes meeting Brendon’s. He was wearing Brendon's  shirt again. 

 

“Did I wake you?” Brendon asked, voice just above a whisper. 

 

Ryan let out a humorless laugh, picking at the peeling paint on the door. “Nah, I haven't slept in a couple nights.” 

 

“Me neither.” Brendon admitted. 

 

“Will you come in?” Ryan asked nervously. 

 

“Yeah.” Brendon replied, following Ryan back into the room. The door shut behind him with a soft click. The bed that used to be Brendon’s was messed up, like someone had been lying in it, but the rest of the room looked the same. 

 

“You can take your hood off by the way, I’ve already seen it.” Ryan said, back to Brendon before sitting on the edge of his bed. 

 

Brendon sat next to him. It was just like old times. He pulled down his hood, but left it zipped up. 

 

Brendon flinched at the disgust he read in Ryan’s eyes as they roamed from mark to mark. 

 

“Thank you for coming in.” Ryan said suddenly. “He said- I thought you’d be upset with me.” 

 

“I’m just a little confused.” Brendon said. He could barely hear his voice over his hammering heart. “Be- because it seemed like you were talking to me? But, you said you- you _killed_ me-” 

 

Ryan twitched. 

 

“Sorry.” Brendon said. 

 

Ryan shook his head. “No, I owe you an explanation.” Ryan began, sucking in a deep breath. “I don't know what happened. It was like I was back in my house, the night I found my mom.” 

 

He swallowed and Brendon waited patiently. 

 

“When I was 15, my uh, my mom killed herself.” Ryan forced out. “At first I was angry at her, because I knew she was having a hard time, but she promised she wouldn't do it. She promised that she wouldn't leave me with  _ him _ . My dad, I mean.” 

 

Brendon itched to reach out and take Ryan’s hand, but he held himself back. 

“I trusted her, y’know? My dad said she would, but I didn't believe her. He was so fucking smug when she did, like he wanted her to so he’d  _ win _ .” he said with disgust. Brendon noticed Ryan’s fists clenched, nails digging into his palm. “But then it hit him I guess, and he said it was my fault. For always complaining to her or whatever.” He said. 

 

Brendon was surprised at Ryan’s composure about the whole thing. 

 

“Do  _ you _ think it was your fault?” Brendon asked quietly. 

 

“Yeah.” Ryan said after a minute. “She tried to protect me from him, stand up to him, but he’d just hit her too and tell me that if I hadn't gotten involved, then she wouldn't be bleeding. I asked too much of her.” Ryan was shaking. 

 

“Ryan, you couldn't have known that she’d do that.” Brendon said. 

 

“The signs were all there, Brendon.” Ryan replied, teeth clenched to stop them from chattering. “She cried herself to sleep every fucking night.” he said, voice cracking. 

 

“You’re not a mind reader, Ry.” Brendon said, taking Ryan’s hand, pulling his nails out of his palm and intertwining their fingers. 

 

Ryan let out a little squeak and pulled his hand away, making Brendon’s stomach drop straight through the floor. “It doesn't matter anymore.” he said. 

 

Brendon nodded numbly. He could feel his cheeks heating up. 

 

“That’s the other part.” Ryan whispered. 

 

“What other part?” Brendon asked, heart pounding in his chest. 

 

“The you part.” Ryan began. “You were right, I wasn't talking to you when I said those things, but…” he sighed. “He said you’d sleep with Dallon.” 

 

“Oh.” Brendon knew he could be predictable, but… Ryan’s eyes were on his neck again, pulling him from his thoughts. 

 

“I shouldn’t even be bringing it up.” Ryan said with a breathy laugh. “It’s hypocritical of me. I mean, everyone has slept with Dallon.” 

 

“Yeah, everyone keeps telling me that.” 

 

Ryan shrugged. “He makes you feel special, y’know? That’s a nice feeling even if it isn't real.” 

 

Brendon could practically feel his heart splitting. Ryan  _ was  _ special, and deserved to be treated like he was. “I know what you mean.” Brendon said, all too honestly. 

 

“I-” Ryan began. He stopped short, picking at the skin around his nails. He took a deep breath. “I don’t like the idea of you kissing Dallon. I don’t like  _ hearing _ you kissing Dallon.” he rushed out, cheeks red. 

 

Brendon didn't know what to say. “Oh.” he replied, blushing himself. He knew he was kinda loud, but he never even thought about Ryan being able to hear. God, he was an idiot. “I wouldn't have kissed him if I knew you liked him, Ry.” 

 

Ryan blinked at him, giving him a strange look. “Brendon.” He said, making Brendon meet his eyes. “I don’t like Dallon, I like  _ you _ .” 

 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Holy  _ shit _ he was an idiot. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. 

 

“I just… you deserved to know.” Ryan began, he was shaking slightly. “I’ll leave you and Dallon alone and everything, I just needed to tell you.” 

 

“Ryan, I like  _ you _ . I slept with Dallon because I didn't think you liked  _ me _ .” Brendon said. 

 

“I kissed you like two nights ago!” Ryan exclaimed. “What the hell did you think that was?” 

 

“I thought you just wanted to make me feel better!” Brendon said, pieces all falling into place. Holy  _ shit _ he was dumb. 

 

“Well, I mean I did, but who just kisses their friends on the mouth?” Ryan asked, smile spreading over his face.

 

“Gee, I don't know, maybe people who can ‘come across as clingy’?” He said with air quotes, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. 

 

“You’re an idiot.” Ryan laughed, playfully shoving Brendon in the shoulder, but instead of pulling away he left his hand there. 

 

Brendon grabbed onto Ryan’s arm, rubbing circles in the soft skin of his wrist. 

 

Ryan leaned forward on his knees, gently placing his hands on either side of Brendon’s face. He checked for any hesitation before pulling Brendon into a soft kiss, sweet enough to make Brendon feel like he was gonna puke. 

 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. Even though it wasn't  _ at  _ you.” Ryan said, pulling away just slightly. 

 

“I forgive you.” Brendon replied, cheeks hot. His eyes flickered to Ryan’s lips and suddenly he was leaning in again. 

 

Ryan was so gentle with him, he felt like he was falling apart. He tugged Ryan closer, making him lose his balance. He fell into Brendon’s lap, using Brendon’s shoulders to steady himself. 

 

“C’mere.” Brendon urged, licking his lips. He never wanted to taste another person’s mouth ever again. 

 

Ryan crawled over Brendon’s knees, straddling his hips, sitting on his lap. He threaded his fingers through Brendon’s hair, nails scraping lightly over his scalp, making Brendon shiver. Ryan captured his lips again, with more urgency this time.  

 

Brendon’s lips parted, letting Ryan lick into his mouth. He sighed contently as Ryan’s tongue slid against his own. 

 

“We could’ve been doing this for the past two nights.” Ryan half moaned into Brendon’s mouth. 

 

“I know, I know.” Brendon mumbled back, biting Ryan’s lower lip gently, making his gasp. He slid his hands down Ryan’s back and up again, accidentally slipping under his shirt. 

 

It didn't bother Ryan though. He pulled his shirt off entirely, only breaking the kiss to pull it over his head. Ryan’s skin was warm under Brendon’s palms. He ran his nails lightly over Ryan’s spine, making him shiver. 

 

“I hate how he did this.” Ryan muttered, fingers digging into the marks on Brendon’s neck. 

 

“Hmm?” Brendon hummed, kissing from Ryan’s jaw, down his throat, across his collarbones. Anywhere he could reach, really. 

 

“Marked you like you were some kind of trophy.” Ryan said breathily. 

 

“Don’t like hickies?” Brendon asked, biting Ryan’s neck lightly. 

 

Ryan exhaled heavily. “Didn't say that. Bruises look good on you.” 

 

Brendon smirked, sucking a mark into the junction where Ryan’s neck met his shoulder. Ryan was grinding down on him, hand tightly fisted in Brendon’s hair. 

 

“Your bruises would look even better on me.” Brendon said. 

 

“Jesus.” Ryan laughed. He then stiffened, resting his forehead on Brendon’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

 

“You alright?” Brendon asked, running a hand through Ryan’s hair. 

 

Ryan quickly took a deep breath. “Yeah. ‘m fine. Take your shirt off.” Ryan said, unzipping his hoodie. 

 

Shit. Sometimes the guys that Brendon got with would take his shirt off, and he’d let them, but this was different somehow. Well, he was usually drunk when he hooked up with people, but it was so personal with Ryan. Ryan knew how he felt about himself, but in this moment it was like he forgot. 

 

“C’mon.” Ryan urged, fingers dipping under the collar of his shirt. 

 

“Ryan…” Brendon began. 

 

Ryan ticked, hand flying to his hair. He pulled, huffing with frustration. “Why are you- Oh.” Ryan’s eyes widened. “Oh. I’m so sorry, I wasn't thinking.” 

 

“It-” 

 

Ryan groaned loudly. “I’m my own fucking cockblock, what the fuck.” 

 

“He talking?” Brendon asked, glad for the subject change.

 

“Yelling.” Ryan replied. 

 

“We can just go to sleep or something.” Brendon suggested. 

 

Ryan shifted in his lap, making him let out a choked groan. “You sure?” 

 

“No,” Brendon breathed out. “But if he’s bothering you, I understand.” 

 

Ryan beamed at him, eyes sparkling. “You’re a wonderful person, you know that?” 

 

“Yeah, yeah, basic human decency is really hard for some people.” 

 

Ryan laughed. The movement made Brendon bite his lip. “I want to ignore him. I need to get better at it.” 

 

“Is there anything I can do?” Brendon asked, eyes trailing aimlessly over Ryan’s chest. He was really pretty. 

 

“Oh, there’s plenty you can do.” Ryan said slowly, eyes dark. 

 

Brendon bit his lip, trying to suppress his grin. “Oh yeah?” 

 

“Mmhm.” Ryan hummed, pulling them together again. Ryan kissed him urgently, making Brendon dizzy. He tried to keep up, but Ryan wouldn't fucking stay still. Between the push-pull of their kiss and Ryan rolling his hips, Brendon couldn't fucking breathe. 

 

Like, he actually couldn't breathe. Brendon pulled away with a loud gasp, trying to suck more air into his lungs. 

 

“Brendon?” Ryan asked nervously. 

 

Brendon nodded in some type of attempt to comfort Ryan. He gripped Ryan’s shoulder, trying to even his breathing, but he was getting light headed. When was the last time he ate something? He hadn't kept anything down since before he got to Clover Fields. 

 

“Maybe we..” He inhaled and exhaled again. “Should just… go to bed…” 

 

“You’re scaring me.” Ryan said, cradling Brendon’s face in his hands. 

 

“M’okay. Just… bed please.” 

 

“Yeah, okay.” Ryan mumbled, scooting off Brendon’s lap. 

 

Brendon laid back on the bed, arms folded under his head. 

 

“Can I touch you? Like can you breathe now?” Ryan asked. 

 

“Yeah, c’mere.” Brendon said, holding an arm out, though he was still breathing kinda hard. Ryan cuddled into him, pulling a blanket over them. 

 

“You have to go before they come in the morning.” Ryan whispered. 

 

Brendon nodded in response. He really hadn't meant to fast all week, it kind of just happened. He didn't even feel hungry or anything. He’d go to breakfast tomorrow though, because that was really scary. His lungs hurt and it felt like the air was too thin. Not to mention he’d barely slept all week. It just wouldn't come to him, but now with Ryan against him, he couldn't keep his eyes open. 

 

Brendon fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if you have any questions. you can find me at count-me-away-before-you-sleep.tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

Brendon managed to wake up with enough time to slip back into his room unnoticed. He was closing Ryan’s door when he caught Jon out of the corner of his eye. 

 

Jon froze, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. Brendon couldn't even tell whose room he was coming out of. 

 

Jon crossed the space in two long strides (which surprised Brendon, considering what a tiny man Jon was). “You never fucking saw me here.” He growled, shoving something into Brendon’s palm. “Don't take both at once.” 

 

Brendon examined the pills he was now holding. “Why not, will I die? What are these?” 

 

“No, but you might wish you did.” Jon chuckled turning away. 

 

“What are they?” Brendon hissed again. 

 

“Molly.” Jon replied over his shoulder. “Now hush.” He walked back down the hallway, back to the wall. 

 

Brendon shook his head and pocketed the pills. They seemed like heavy payment for just seeing someone sneak out of a room. 

 

~*~

 

Gerard wasn't at breakfast. The awkward silence at Ryan and Brendon’s table really highlighted that fact. 

 

Frank was worried sick, knee bouncing at 100mph. He had breakfast in front of him but he wasn't touching it. Brendon on the other hand, was nibbling on a piece of toast, desperately trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. 

 

Ryan kept looking at him with something that was equal parts worry and gratitude, which really wasn't helping. 

 

“Why are you so shaken up?” Brendon asked Frank, trying to get the attention off himself. 

 

“Gerard went to hypno last night and never came back.” Frank replied, voice wobbling. 

 

“What?” Ryan asked. 

 

“Has that happened before?” Brendon asked. 

 

Frank nodded hesitantly. “It happened once, a little bit after I first got here. It- he came really messed up.” 

 

“Is it because of what happened with Pete?” 

 

“What happened with Pete?” Ryan asked. 

 

“Gee was talking about Mikey and Pete got upset, told him to stop talking about him.” Brendon explained. 

 

“He almost told Gerard what he did.” Frank added. 

 

“Shit.” Ryan said, running a hand through his hair. 

 

“Last time,” Frank began, eyes low. “He didn't remember who I was.” 

 

“What?” Brendon asked.

 

“I mean, I had only known him a few weeks, but we were already pretty close, and it hurt, y’know?” Frank shrugged. “And since we’ve grown closer I’ve always been afraid of him being taken overnight again. What if he doesn't remember me?” 

 

“He’ll remember you, Frank.” Ryan began. 

 

“He loves you so much man, he could never forget.” Brendon added. He peeled his orange, ripping it in half, giving one side to Ryan. He took it wordlessly, popping a piece into his mouth. 

 

“If he did forget, I wouldn't assume it to be his fault.” Frank said, features hard. “It’s Lynz’s.” 

 

They sighed rather collectively. It was kind of disheartening. 

 

“And Frank?” Ryan asked. Frank looked up. “Even if he did forget, I have no doubt that he’d be able to fall in love with you again.” 

 

Frank’s expression softened. He reached across the table, giving Ryan’s hand a squeeze. “I really hope so.” 

 

~*~

 

Ryan followed Brendon back toward his room after breakfast. 

 

“I’m not gonna throw it up, you can stop following me.” Brendon said bitterly, in front of his door. 

 

“No, Brendon, I- They don't want me going to family group until I ‘even out’ a bit more. They don't want to trigger anything.” Ryan replied, only a few steps behind him. 

 

Brendon turned around. His cheeks were red as he swallowed his guilt. “I’m sorry, I just assumed-” 

 

“Just because I know, doesn't mean I’m gonna be breathing down your neck about it. But I’m glad you're not… going to do that.” 

 

Brendon nodded, not meeting Ryan’s eyes. “Thank you.” 

 

Ryan offered him a soft smile. “Wanna come hang out until lunch or something?” He asked. 

 

Brendon could stop the smile creeping up on his face. “Yeah.” 

 

Ryan beamed at him, opening his door. 

 

~*~

 

They had only been chilling for a few minutes before there was a knock at the door. Ryan was only half way across the room when the door opened. Dr. Uma was standing there, looking unimpressed. 

 

“There you are.” She said, looking past Ryan to Brendon. “Good news. You’re moving back into this room because we have a new admission.” She turned to address Ryan too. “You’re both expected to be in morning group to see him in.” 

 

Brendon’s stomach flipped. “Thanks!” he exclaimed. 

 

“You can move your stuff now. Don't be late, boys.” She said, a ghost of a smile on her lips. She turned on her heels, making her way back down the hall. 

 

Ryan shut the door and turned to him, wide smile across his face. 

 

Brendon grinned back, crossing the room to pull Ryan into a hug. Ryan wrapped his arms tightly around Brendon’s waist. 

 

“I’m glad you’re gonna be back.” Ryan whispered into his shoulder. 

 

“Me too.” Brendon replied. And he really was. Ryan made him feel safe. 

 

Ryan pulled back just far enough to press a kiss to Brendon’s lips; short and sweet. “Then let's go.” 

 

~*~

 

Between the two of them, it didn't take very long to move Brendon back in. Though, it probably would’ve gotten done faster if Ryan stopped distracting Brendon. Brendon knew Ryan saw him watching as he lifted the heavy things. He would blush when Ryan caught him looking, which led to teasing, which led to Ryan pinning Brendon to the bathroom door. 

 

They did get to group on time, though. They were the last one there, slipping into the open love seat. 

 

Gerard still wasn't there. Frank had his knees pulled up, hand threaded through his greasy hair. He looked like he had been crying. 

 

A boy Brendon had never seen before sat where he sat when he was new. He had pretty curly brown hair and big eyes. He looked scared shitless. 

 

Dr. Jackson introduced herself, and then they went around, like they did for Brendon. Patrick started this time. 

 

Pete looked like he wanted to be literally anywhere else. 

 

By the time it was Brendon’s turn, only Ryan, Frank and Dallon were left. 

 

“I’m Brendon, I’m 18 and I’m here for anxiety stuff.” He said. 

 

Dr. Jackson gave him and Ryan a looks. “Space.” She mouthed, waving Brendon toward the side. Brendon blushed. Brendon didn't even notice he was sat pressed up against Ryan from shoulder to ankle. He shifted away, knee still touching Ryan’s thigh. 

 

“I’m Ryan, 19. PTSD and paranoia stuff.” He said. 

 

“Frank?” Dr. Jackson prompted. 

 

He looked up, shot a glare at Dr. Jackson, then began, “I’m Frank, here for substance abuse and paranoia.” 

 

It was Dallon’s turn, but he had a strange look on his face. He was looking at the boy, eyes wide and doey, an expression Brendon had never seen on him. 

 

“I uh, I’m Dallon.” He said. 

 

Everyone waited, but he didn't continue. 

 

“What? Not gonna brag about why you’re here, Weekes?” Bob challenged. 

 

“No…” He said cautiously, feigning confusion. 

 

Bob let out a low whistle. “That's a new one. He seems like your type, too.” 

 

Dallon blushed. “Cut it out.” 

 

“Bob.” Dr. Jackson warned. 

 

“Bob’s got a point.” Jon Walker said. “Dallon loves to talk about how he’s addicted-” 

 

“Seriously, don't!” Dallon exclaimed, now  _ extremely _ red. 

 

Ryan quirked an eyebrow at Brendon. He just shrugged. Maybe Dallon knew the kid. 

 

“It’s okay.” The boy said. “It’s your own business.” 

 

Dallon seemed caught off guard by his response. “I, uh, thanks.” Dallon managed. 

 

“Go ahead and introduce yourself.” Dr. Jackson said, nodding at the boy. 

 

“I’m Ian.” He began shyly. “I just turned 18 a couple days ago.” 

 

Brendon was watching Dallon out of the corner of his eye. He seemed to pale. 

 

“I’m just here for anxiety and depression stuff.” Ian said with a shrug, pulling at his sleeves. 

 

“Well, welcome, Ian.” Dr. Jackson smiled. “Dallon is going to be your roommate, so he can answer any questions you might have.” 

 

Dallon swallowed hard, glancing at Brendon. “I thought Brendon was my roommate.” Dallon said, voice uncharacteristically weak. 

 

Dr. Jackson frowned, flipping through her file. “Nope, he was just moved back in with Ryan. You’re with Ian.” 

 

Dallon nodded, like he was trying to convince himself. 

 

“Is that going to be a problem?” She asked. 

 

“No!” Dallon exclaimed. He cleared his throat, ears red. “No of course not, I just wasn't sure.” 

 

Dr. Jackson gave him a weird look and Ian looked down at his hands. 

 

“Oh-kay.” She said somewhat awkwardly. “Well tomorrow’s Saturday, so you’ll only have elective groups. We have a pretty musical community here. Do you play any instruments, Ian?” 

 

Ian nodded. “Yeah, bit of guitar.” 

 

“Great.” she exclaimed. “Self esteem group is taking place here in just a moment, then lunch. I’m sure you’ll feel right at home in no time!” 

 

~*~

 

“You gonna stay for self esteem group with me?” Ryan asked as some of the patients left the room. 

 

“Yeah…” Brendon said, looking around. He wanted to catch Dallon before he left. He spotted him slowly walking out the door, looking over his shoulder every step or two. “Just give me a sec.” 

 

Brendon sprung off the loveseat, running into the hall. “Dal!” 

 

Dallon spun around like a deer in the headlights. He caught up to Dallon, pulling him aside. 

 

“Are you okay? What the hell was that about?” he asked, making Dallon blush again. 

 

“He’s…” Dallon trailed off. 

 

“Do you know him from somewhere else?” 

 

Dallon didn't reply for a moment. He swallowed, collecting his thoughts. “We went to the same church.” 

 

“You go to church?” Brendon asked. 

 

“Oh, don't look so surprised.” Dallon replied making Brendon flinch. “I was raised Mormon, but I’m not really anymore.” Dallon said, softer this time. 

 

“I was raised Mormon too.” Brendon confessed. 

 

Dallon cocked a brow at him. “Oh, yeah? Why’d you fall off the bandwagon?” 

 

Brendon flushed. “I don't…”

 

“Oh, are you still?” 

 

“No,” Brendon shook his head. “I stopped believing around the time my dad left, I think.” He added.

 

“Was he Mormon too?” 

 

“Mom said he never was, but I think he was. He always believed at least.” 

 

“Why did he leave?” Dallon asked after a beat. 

 

Brendon took a deep breath. He could trust Dallon. “He was uh, in love with a man.” 

 

“Ah, I see.” Dallon said. “I left the church for the same reason.” 

 

“You were in love with a man?” Brendon asked. 

 

Dallon smiled shyly. “Yeah, it was Ian.” 

 

“Oh.” Brendon said, finally understanding. “Did you and him ever-” 

 

“No.” Dallon cut him off. “I never even told him.” 

 

“So that’s why you didn't say anything about the addiction.” Brendon said, changing the subject. 

 

Dallon nodded. “I can't fuck this up.” 

 

“You’ll be okay Dallon. You’re a good guy.” Brendon said honestly. 

 

Dallon smiled at him. “I really appreciate it, B. And you won't mention the uh, the hickies or anything to him, right?” 

 

“Of course not.” Brendon replied, ignoring the hurt he shouldn't be feeling. He smiled back before going back to the meeting room. 

 

“You okay?” Ryan asked when he slid back into his seat. 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“You find out what that was about?” Ryan asked, voice dropping to a whisper. 

 

“Yeah.” Brendon said again. “They used to go to church together and Dallon has had a crush on him since.” He explained as quietly as possible. 

 

“I see.” Ryan laughed. He slid his hand into Brendon’s squeezing twice. 

 

“Ryan!” Fiona exclaimed as she entered the room. “So glad to have you back!” 

 

“Good to be back.” Ryan replied with a smile. 

 

Fiona didn't seem to care that Ryan was still holding his hand, but for good measure, he hid their connected hands under his folded knee. 

 

“Are you Ian?” She asked Ian who was still sitting in the corner. 

 

He nodded. 

 

“Okay, Ian. Looks like you’re with us today. I’m Fiona.” She smiled, shutting the door behind Patrick. “This is a group directed at self esteem and eating disorders. You only have to participate if you want to.” 

 

He nodded again. 

 

“Alright.” She began, clapping her hands together. “Brendon, I have to meet with you after group, before lunch.” 

 

Shit. “Okay.” Brendon replied. It better not be about the fucking eating plan. 

 

“Ryan, would you like to start?” Fiona asked. 

 

Ryan sighed. “Sure, Fi.” 

 

“Remind me of your last goal?” 

 

Ryan did that thing he did when he was uncomfortable; sat up straighter, tilted his chin up and set his jaw. It was like he was collecting his pride or something. “I just wanted to be kinder to myself. In my head and out.” 

 

Brendon squeezed his hand, making a small smile rise to his lips. 

 

“Yeah?” Fiona asked, leaning forward. “And how’s that been going?” 

 

“Not too bad.” Ryan said, though Brendon could feel Ryan’s fingers brushing over his long sleeves. 

 

“That’s good.” She replied. “You’re doing alright controlling the negative thoughts?” 

 

Ryan shrugged. “I mean I block him out as best as I can, but with his persistence, some stuff still gets through. And I know he’s just trying to get to me, but he’s good at it.” 

 

“Like, knows which buttons to push?” She asked. 

 

“Exactly.” Ryan confirmed. 

 

“I can't even imagine what that’s like, Ryan.” She said. “You’re strong, though. Keep up with those positive affirmations!” 

 

Ryan nodded in response, tight smile on his face. His knuckles twitched like he itched to pull on his hair. Brendon pressed his nails into the top of Ryan’s hand, trying to relieve some of the tension. 

 

Ryan sent him a grateful glance, rubbing his thumb over Brendon’s knuckles. 

 

“How about you, Brendon? You had something similar if I remember correctly.” Fiona said, digging through a file. 

 

“Yeah, something about not counting calories.” Brendon managed, eyes on the floor. 

 

“Oh, right.” She said. “How’s that going?” 

 

“Oh,  _ so _ great.” Brendon said. 

 

“Oh great, Brendon!” Fiona smiled, not noticing his sarcasm. 

 

Josh giggled, making Brendon’s head snap up. He didn't know the boy could make any noise at all. Josh bit his tongue when Brendon caught him, deadpanning with a wink in Brendon’s direction. He didn't know how to decipher Josh yet. 

 

~*~

 

Brendon was like, 78% sure that he fell asleep during group, but no one chided him or said anything about it at all, so Brendon wasn't positive. 

 

He picked up his pack of cigarettes and lighter from the nurses desk on his way outside. Fiona was taking a group to smoke before she checked in with him. 

 

Brendon stuck a cigarette between his teeth and lit up as he sat down next to Frank on the stone bench. 

 

He scooted over to make room for Ryan who perched on the edge. 

 

“Any sign of him?” Brendon asked. 

 

Frank shook his head. “Wasn't in Family Group.” he said glumly. 

 

“He’ll turn up, Frank.” Ryan said, reaching around to pat him on the shoulder. 

 

Frank looked past the both of them, eyes lighting up. “Gee!” He exclaimed, shooting up and sprinting across the small space. 

 

Gerard looked hungover at best, strung out at worst. His red hair was duller than Brendon remembered and he had dark rings under his eyes. 

 

Frank pulled Gerard unto a big hug, squeezing him tight. 

 

“Missed ya too, uh-, uh, Frankie.” He stuttered out, holding onto Frank so he wouldn't fall over. 

 

“You scared the shit out of me, you asshole!” Frank exclaimed, pressing a quick kiss to Gerard’s lips. It seemed to catch him off guard. 

 

“Wha- I didn't mean to.” Gerard said, brows coming together. Frank pulled back, giving him a strange look. 

 

“I know baby, I was just teasing.”  Frank said. 

 

Gerard blinked at him. “Oh.” 

 

Frank ran a hand through Gerard’s hair, trying to untangle some of the knots, but to no avail. 

 

“Are you my boyfriend or something?” Gerard giggled, trying to brush Frank’s hands away. 

 

Frank froze, mouth slightly ajar. He blinked a couple of times, trying to absorb Gerard’s question. “If you’re messing with me, Gee, I’ll never forgive you.” 

 

Gerard squinted at him. Frank took a step back, hands flying to his head. “You’re not kidding.” he said.

 

Gerard shook his head. 

 

“But you know who I am?” Frank asked, fear in his eyes. 

 

“Oh of course.” Gerard smiled. “You’re Frankie!” 

 

“And I’ve also been your boyfriend for two fucking years, Gerard!” Frank exclaimed. 

 

Gerard’s eyes widened, stupid grin breaking out onto his face. “You’re my  _ boyfriend? _ ” 

 

“Yeah.” Frank breathed out. “What’s the last thing you remember?” 

 

“You kissed me.” Gerard said. 

 

Frank rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no shit I kissed you. I mean before you came back this morning.” 

 

“No, you kissed me in our room this morning. For the first time ever.” 

 

“Should we… I don't know, do something?” Brendon asked Ryan quietly. 

 

Ryan shook his head, taking a drag. 

 

Frank looked at him quizzically for a moment before Brendon saw the light bulb flick on in his head. 

 

“Gee, that was when you came back from Hypno the  _ first _ time. The  _ first _ time you were gone overnight.” Frank explained quietly. 

 

“How many times have I gone away overnight?” Gerard asked, taking Frank’s cigarette out of his fingers and taking a slow pull. 

 

“Last night was the second time.” Frank said. 

 

Gerard nodded. 

 

“I’m not letting you go back to her.” Frank said decidedly. “I won't let her keep breaking you.” 

 

“Oh, come on, Frank. Lynz’s just doing her job. And I think it  _ is _ working! I remember Mikey had this green lighter-” 

 

“She’s not doing shit!” Frank yelled, getting everyone’s attention. “It was Brendon that made you remember that, not Lynz.” 

 

Brendon waved to Gerard at the sound of his name. 

 

“Hey, how’s the bruise healing?” Gerard asked him with a smirk. 

 

Frank scoffed and Brendon didn't know what to do. If Gerard couldn't remember Frank being his boyfriend, how could he remember Brendon’s hickie? How could he remember Brendon at all?

 

Frank shook his head, muttering something under his breath before storming back inside. 

 

Gerard let out a smokey breath. He shook his head, dropping his cigarette and followed Frank. 

 

“If they don't make it out together, I’m gonna give up on love.” Brendon sighed. “I’ve never seen two people so just, made for each other.” 

 

“You believe in soul mates?” Ryan asked, taking a drag. 

 

Brendon hesitated. “I always thought my parents were soul mates, but then my dad got remarried.” he said, apparently wanting proclaim his family problems recently. 

 

“Yeah?” Ryan asked. “Don't like the new wife?” 

 

“New husband.” Brendon said, taking a hit. 

 

Ryan didn't reply. Brendon could see the pieces falling together in his head. “Does your mom know about you?” he asked after a few moments. 

 

“Well I’ve never  _ come out _ to her or anything.” Brendon scoffed. “But I mean, I’m sure she figured it out considering the way she treats me.” 

 

“Does… does she hurt you?” Ryan asked, suddenly quieter and closer. 

 

“No.” Brendon replied. “But I always get the short end of the stick, with everything. She kinda takes everything out on me since she can't do it to my dad.” he shrugged. 

 

“Do you still talk to him?” Ryan asked. 

 

“She forbids it, and I don't want to anyways.” 

 

“Were you guys close?” 

 

Brendon shrugged, not flinching as his cigarette began to burn his fingers. “Yeah.” 

 

“We don't have to talk about it if you don't want.” Ryan said. 

 

It was then that Fiona came over, warm smile on her face. “You ready, Brendon?” 

 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He replied, stubbing out his smoke. “Wish me luck.” He said to Ryan as he got up. 

 

“Luck!” Ryan replied. 

 

~*~

 

Fiona’s office was a small little thing on the complete other side of the unit. If you cut through the garden, it was parallel to 109. Her room was full of books and plants and fairy lights. Brendon felt like he was in a jungle. 

 

“Sorry for the mess, I’ve been putting off trimming the ivy.” Fiona laughed, dropping her bag. “I gotta get you weighed real quick. I realize that’s a thing that never happened when you were admitted.” 

 

Brendon groaned, not even bothering to hide his discontentment. 

 

“Don’t worry, you don't have to look. Well, not allowed to at all, actually.” 

 

Brendon would rather be literally anywhere else. 

 

Fiona led him over to what looked like a closet. There was one of those old fashioned scales in it. 

 

“Hop on.” She encouraged. “Take off your hoodie too please.” 

 

Brendon did what he was told, shrugging his baggy sweatshirt off and putting it on the chair. He stepped on the scale, back to the numbers. 

 

Fiona moved the little weight, making Brendon flinch with every loud clank. She kept her face carefully blank as she wrote down the number, out of Brendon’s sight. 

 

She moved the weights back to 0. “Stand up straight so I can get your height, please.” 

 

Brendon stood up as tall and straight as he could. 

 

“5’9” She said as she wrote it down. “Thanks, Brendon. You can hop off.” 

 

Brendon got down and put his shirt back on and waited for Fiona to lock the closet again. He sat in one of the wicker chairs on the other side of her desk. It was a cozy chair, he could pull his legs up and tuck them under his hoodie. 

 

“So have you ever been diagnosed with any type of eating disorder?” Fiona asked, sitting in her chair. 

 

“I don’t have one.” Brendon said. 

 

Fiona nodded. “Right.” She said, tone even. “You’ve missed 10 meals, which qualifies you for a meal plan. This is nothing about trying to make you change your weight, we as your team just want to make sure you’re staying healthy and eating regularly.” 

 

Brendon nodded. He would try not to be too hard on Fiona. She was nice and just doing her job and Brendon felt like with some time, he might be able to find an ally in her. 

 

“How many calories per meal?” Brendon asked, folding his hands in his lap. “You know, so I know what to get.” 

 

“You don't even have to worry about it, you’re meal will be prepared for you. Jenny knows what to give you.” 

 

“And if I don't cooperate?” Brendon asked. 

 

Fiona studied him carefully. “If you keep refusing meals you’ll be put on a neurogastro plan and potentially moved to a more intense care facility.” 

 

“Oh.” Brendon said. That sounded fucking awful. 

 

“So we’ve done the easy part, here. You’ll have to do the hard part in the lunchroom, but you’re always welcome to come eat in my office if that makes you feel more comfortable.” Fiona smiled. 

 

Brendon took a deep breath. At least they didn't seem to know he was a puker. 

 

Yet. 

 

~*~

 

There was a little bit of room time before lunch on Fridays, so Brendon spent it with Ryan, singing for Ryan as he played. 

 

“Hey, you know my sister’s coming on Sunday?” Brendon said when the song ended. 

 

“Audrey?” Ryan asked. “That’s great!” 

 

“She’s bringing my electric guitar.” Brendon said from where he was slumped back against the bed. Ryan sat with his legs crossed, setting his guitar down on the floor.

 

“Shit, really?” 

 

“Yeah, I know you’ve been aching to play one, so I figured I’d bring you mine for now.” 

 

Ryan lit up, cheeks turning pink. “You didn't have to do that, Brendon.” 

 

“Don’t even worry about it.” Brendon said, sitting up. 

 

Ryan’s hand found the side of his neck, thumb lightly brushing over the skin there. 

 

“Maybe that’s the problem!” a voice that Brendon could identify as Frank’s yelled, stopping Ryan from leaning in any further. 

 

There was a murmur of a response that Brendon couldn't make out. Ryan turned his head, trying to hear better. 

 

“Then- then maybe  _ you’re _ the problem, Gerard!” Frank yelled in a way that almost sounded reluctant. 

 

Brendon could feel the weight of the response even from another room. Silence was the only thing that came after. 

 

After a moment, they could hear Frank stomp down the hall. 

 

“I’m gonna make sure he’s okay.” Brendon said, standing up and grabbing a hoodie. 

 

“Okay, let me know.” Ryan replied. 

 

Brendon nodded, pulling the sweatshirt over his head and slipping out the door. 

 

He noticed Frank sitting under a tree in the garden, but he kept walking. 

 

He passed room 110, then room 111, but the door was cracked open. He didn't have time to think about anything because Gerard came whizzing out, almost running straight into Brendon. 

 

“Have you seen Mikey?” Gerard asked frantically. “I can't find him. I can't find him anywhere, please help me find him, Brendon.” 

 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay, man-” 

 

“Please, I can't find him anywhere. I haven't seen him in so long, Dad’s gonna be pissed, please, I have to find him, he can’t get in trouble.” Gerard rambled on the verge of hysterics, tears spilling down his cheeks. 

 

“Let’s talk about it in here,” Brendon said, trying to usher Gerard back into his room. Gerard stepped back, letting him in. He sank to his knees as Brendon shut the door. 

 

“I haven't seen him in years.” Gerard said in a broken, almost sing songy voice.  “I just miss him so much.” His voice cracked.

 

Brendon didn't know what to say, Gerard seemed to be moving between remembering the truth and what he conjured. 

 

“You’ll see him again,” Brendon offered. “Some day.” 

 

“Never again.” Gerard whispered, eyes glassy and unfocused. “Never again.” 

 

“What never again?” Brendon asked. 

 

“Two shots to the back of the head, we’ll all be fucking dead!” He screamed at Brendon, voice raw as he sank further into the floor.

 

“Gerard, what the fuck is going on?” Brendon yelled back, really worried now. That seemed to shut him up.

 

“Frankie’s really upset.” He whispered after a moment. “He’s never been this upset with me, B.” 

 

Brendon took a seat on the floor next to Gerard. 

 

“Because you can't remember?” 

 

Gerard nodded. 

 

“Well it’s not your fault, of course.” 

 

“No,” Gerard began. “He says it’s Lynz’s.” 

 

“He loves you a lot, Gee. I haven't known you guys too long, but it’s easy to see how much he fuckin’ loves you.” Brendon reassured him. 

 

Another tear rolled wordlessly off Gerard’s cheek. “I think I’m gonna stop seeing her.” he said.

 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Brendon asked.

 

Gerard shrugged. “I mean, if something happened that was  _ so bad  _ that I physically can't make myself remember, maybe it’s better than I don't know.” 

 

Brendon let out a sigh. 

 

“I mean, why should I?” 

 

“Maybe so you can work through it?” Brendon suggested. He really wanted to ask, because the way Gerard talked about it, seemed like he didn't even know he talked about Mikey. He would know it would have to do with Mikey, right?

 

Gerard shrugged again. 

 

“When was the last time you saw your brother?” Brendon asked quietly, regretting the words the second they left his mouth. 

 

Gerard stiffened, completely frozen. His eyes locked with Brendon’s. 

 

Brendon never saw so much raw, unfiltered hatred and disgust in someone’s eyes before. Goosebumps rose to his skin. He imagined this is what it would be like to make eye contact with Satan himself. Dread filled his stomach. 

 

“Fuck you.” Gerard said, breaking the trance, his voice eerily calm. 

 

“Gerard-” 

 

“Fuck. You.” Gerard spit, standing up. “Get the fuck out of my room before I slit your fucking throat, do you understand me?” he yelled, volume increasing.

 

Brendon scrambled to his feet. “I’m so s-” 

 

“I’ll kill you!” Gerard yelled, red in the face.

 

Brendon stumbled, opening the door and backing out. 

 

“I’ll fucking kill you, do you hear me?” He screamed at the top of his lungs. He looked past Brendon. “You!” 

 

Brendon spun around to see Pete standing there, fear in his eyes. Talk about wrong place wrong time.

 

Gerard pushed past Brendon and grabbed Pete by the collar, pinning him to the nearest wall. 

 

“Get the fuck off me!” Pete exclaimed, shoving at Gerard, but he wouldn't budge. 

 

“You were the last one to see him.” Gerard growled. “Where the fuck is my brother?” 

 

“I- Gerard, I wasn’t- I didn't-” 

 

Gerard slammed Pete against the wall again. “What did you do with him? I know it was fucking you, Pete, you were the only one besides me that he ever got close to!” 

 

Pete was crying now, tears thick and ugly rolling down his cheeks. “I didn't fucking do anything to him-” 

 

“He cried for you, you know.” Gerard said, knuckles white. Brendon was surprised no staff had shown up from the commotion. It must have been a shift change, just their luck. “I held him while he cried because you left and you didn't fucking say a word to him. You were the best thing that ever happened to him.” 

 

“I was gonna come back.” Pete sobbed. “I was gonna come back when I had my shit sorted, when I was sob-” 

 

“You could’ve saved him.” Gerard interrupted sadly. “You could have taken him with you and saved him from mom and dad! You fucking did this Pete, this is on you.” 

 

“On  _ me _ ?” Pete asked, sadness hardening into anger. “ _ On me, _ Gerard, really? You’re the one that fucking killed him, I don't fucking think that’s _ on me! _ ” Pete yelled, voice cracking. 

 

Brendon banged on the glass, trying to get Frank’s attention. 

 

Gerard scoffed. “You think I killed my own-” he paused, a grim expression settling on his face. Gerard took a step back, one hand still holding Pete by his chest to the wall. He turned like he was going to walk away, but at the last moment, he spun around, cracking Pete straight in the jaw. 

 

He let out a loud yelp, hunching over. 

 

“Gerard, you gotta calm down, let’s just talk about this.” Brendon said carefully. 

 

“You fucking stay out of this.” Gerard said, without turning to face him. 

 

“No, Gerard, you’re going to do something you’ll regret.” 

 

Gerard turned around, stepping into Brendon’s space. Pete crumpled to the floor.

 

Gerard squinted at Brendon mockingly. “Oh, yeah? Like what? Kill my fucking brother?” He spit, shoving Brendon back. 

 

“Ryan!” Brendon tried to call, but Gerard hit him with an open hand to the side of the face. That was going to become a black eye. 

 

Brendon clutched his face, backing up. 

 

“Brendon?” 

 

Brendon could hear Ryan calling, but he couldn't reply, still dazed. 

 

“Shit.” Ryan muttered, running over to the glass wall. He knocked hard, getting Frank’s attention. He waved him over quickly. 

 

“Can’t take one hit, fucking piece of shit? What? Daddy never teach you how to swing?” Gerard teased bitterly. 

 

“Please, just-” Brendon slid to the ground, knees up, back to the wall. Gerard knocked the wind out of him. He felt dizzy like he did the night before. 

 

Ryan ran past all of them, likely to get help, but Brendon was fading fast. 

 

“Gee, what the fuck is going on?” Frank asked, coming over to pull Gerard away. 

 

“Don’t touch me.” Gerard grumbled. 

 

Frank took a deep breath, giving him some space. “We’re gonna work this out, baby, okay?” 

 

“I’m not your fucking  _ baby _ .” Gerard spit. 

 

The last thing Brendon saw before he blacked out was the horrified look on Frank’s face. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took 600 years and that I have No Update Schedule. Chapter 7 is written and will be published once Chapter 8 has been written, and so on because it's good to have an extra chapter just incase The Boys Are Back
> 
> anyway, tw for all kinds of shit this chapter   
> TW for:  
> -drugs  
> -EDs  
> -pain kink ??  
> -self harm/ attempted suicide  
> -im probably forgetting something
> 
> so good luck with that shit #stillnoMCDtho

The bright-ass light was the only thing keeping Brendon from opening his eyes. Well, that and the fact that he didn't want to face whoever he heard sitting beside his bed. He heard the rustling of clothes and pages of a book turning. 

 

He fucked up big time. Gerard was on a fucking mental break that Brendon kickstarted. Not only is Gerard upset with him, but surely Frank and Pete had to be too. The pain he saw in Frank’s eyes made him nauseous to even think about. 

 

Brendon felt like if he didn't get a drink of water soon, his throat would rip from the force of trying to swallow. He cracked his eyes open slowly, trying to adjust to the brightness. It looked like he was in his own room. Brendon thought he’d have been brought to a nurse’s office or something. 

 

“You’re awake.” Dr. Uma said. She was sitting in a chair, book in her lap. Brendon looked around. It was just her sitting in the room.

 

“Where’s Ryan?” Brendon croaked. 

 

Dr. Uma handed Brendon a cup of water. He sucked it down quickly, practically moaning in relief. 

 

“He’s just right outside the door. He was reluctant to go very far.” Dr. Uma said, carefully monotone. She filled up the cup again with a little pitcher. “I needed to be here to talk to you first, however. I’ll let him in once we’re done.” 

 

“Thanks.” Brendon said quietly. 

 

She nodded in response. “What happened with Gerard?” 

 

Brendon sighed, sitting up a little more. “Doesn't matter.” He said gloomily. He really didn't need her rubbing in how much he fucked up. He just wanted to go to sleep.

 

“Matters to me.” She replied easily. 

 

“I said something dumb. It’s not important.” 

 

“Something about Mikey, right?” 

 

Brendon fucking hated how doctors knew everything. He didn't reply. 

 

“What were you thinking when you asked about his brother?” Dr. Uma asked, no malice to her words. 

 

“I wasn't thinking!” Brendon exclaimed, voice cracking with the effort. “I wasn't fucking thinking!” 

 

Dr. Uma held a hand out to stop him from continuing. She pursed her lips, waiting a moment before she spoke again. “My colleagues, Gerard’s clinician in particular, thinks you should have consequences.” 

 

Brendon could feel the guilt being piled on. He felt it and he fucking hated it. He swallowed down the rising bile and nodded. 

 

“But I think you learned your lesson.” She said, giving his injured body a once over. “And I’m sure you’ll give yourself enough shit about it, excuse my language.” 

 

Brendon nodded again, but he would’ve just prefered the consequences. He deserved to be punished for what he did. What if Gerard never got back to normal? What if he never fell in love with Frank again? Frank would never forgive Brendon.  _ Should  _ never forgive Brendon.

 

She looked at him with something that looked like worry before she stood up. “You missed lunch, but Fiona has yours in her office. You can go when you’re ready, but if you don’t, it’ll still count as a missed meal.” 

 

Brendon just nodded again. That was the least of his problems.

 

Dr. Uma left without another word. Brendon barely had time to exhale before Ryan was rushing in. 

 

“Jesus Christ, are you okay?” he asked, eyes wide. 

 

“In theory.” Brendon replied, cocking an eyebrow bitterly. He flinched, hand coming up to gently poke at his eye. “Black eye?” 

 

Ryan nodded, sitting on the edge of his bed. He lightly brushed Brendon’s hair back, finger tracing around Brendon’s eye. “It’s not too bad, though.” 

 

“Good.” Brendon sighed, leaning into Ryan’s touch. 

 

“If he weren't literally psychotic, and a friend of mine, I’d beat him up for you.” Ryan said. 

 

Brendon laughed. “Oh yeah, Flowerboy?” he teased, tugging at Ryan’s floral shirt. “I didn't take you for a warmonger.” 

 

Ryan shrugged. “Well I’m not, but I gotta defend your honor, don't I?” he said with a shy smile. It made Brendon feel warm inside. 

 

Brendon grinned back at him. He could feel his cheeks heating up. “C’mere.” he said, shifting over so Ryan could get in with him. 

 

Ryan slipped off his shoes and crawled onto the bed, wrapping an arm around Brendon’s shoulders and pulling him close. 

 

Brendon let out a sigh of content, melting into Ryan’s warmth. Ryan combed through Brendon’s hair with his fingers, nails scraping lightly on his scalp. It felt good to be cared for. Brendon felt his stomach drop at the thought.

 

“What happened after I passed out?” Brendon asked quietly. 

 

“You mean after I used all my willpower to get help instead of decking Gee? I went and got Dr. Double D. When we got back, Gerard and Frank were screaming at each other.” 

 

“Are they gonna be okay?” 

 

“Hard to tell.” Ryan sighed. “I don't think Gerard is really mad at Frank or anything, I think he’s just pushing him away at this point, but Frank won't let him.” 

 

Brendon nodded against Ryan’s chest. He could hear his heart beating and it was putting him to sleep. 

 

“He knocked Pete out, so he’s in the infirmary. There’s not a lot of room there, otherwise you’d be there too. But uh, Dr. Double D pulled Gerard away. He’s in lockup.”  

 

Brendon was quiet for a minute. “Do they hate me?” he looked up at Ryan. “Do you?” 

 

Ryan’s gaze softened, his heart breaking. “I could never hate you, Bren.” 

 

Brendon had to refrain from scoffing. Never say never. 

 

“Frank will forgive you with time. You know, they’ve been trying to fix Gerard gradually for so long and it’s done nothing. Maybe tough love was a better way to go.” 

 

“Thanks for trying to make me feel better.” Brendon said, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. 

 

“Anytime, beautiful.” Ryan said, kissing his forehead. “I’m gonna grab your lunch for you so you don’t get in trouble, okay?” he asked, getting up. 

 

“You don’t have to take care of me.” Brendon blushed, ignoring the compliment. A strange sort of guilt was bubbling within him. 

 

“I want to. And besides, you’d do the same for me. You’ve already proved that.” he said, making his way out of the room. 

 

The door clicked shut and Brendon could feel tears spring to his eyes. What the fuck. He sniffled defiantly. He felt so… weird. He felt just gross and pathetic and useless. 

 

Brendon curled up under the covers, burying his face in Ryan’s pillow, breathing him in. He shoved his hands into his pockets, arms pressed tight to his sides. He just wanted to shrink and disappear. 

 

His fingers brushed over something small and round in his pocket. He pulled it out, looking at it in the dim light. It was the Molly he got from Jon Walker. He glanced over at the cup of water on his nightstand. 

 

Now, Brendon wasn't entirely sure what Molly was, or what it did, but it couldn't be  _ that _ bad. He knew Jon only told him to take one, but… 

 

He sat up and tossed both pills back, washing them down with a gulp of water. Time to wait. Brendon wasn't sure if they’d even do anything. Stimulants didn't really tend to work on kids with ADHD. His heart was beating fast by the time Ryan got back with his tray a little while later. 

 

“I ran into Frank.” Ryan said, setting the tray down. “He fucking hates you for ruining his boyfriend’s life.” 

 

“What?” Brendon asked, horrified. 

 

Ryan gave him a weird look. “I said that I ran into Frank, he asked how you were doing.” 

 

“Oh.” Brendon said, brows coming together. 

 

“You okay?” 

 

Brendon saw something move from the corner of his eye. He turned, heart leaping in his chest. The fucking shadow was moving at him! It- No, it was just a regular shadow, Brendon realized. What the fuck was Molly? 

 

“Hey, what the fuck is Molly?” Brendon asked, voicing his question. 

 

Ryan looked at him confusedly. “It’s like, MDMA or something. Ecstasy but stronger? I don't know, why do you ask?” 

 

“Isn't ecstasy the sex drug?” 

 

Ryan squinted at him. “Yeah…” 

 

“Oh, well Jon Walker The Fucking Bass Player gave me some Molly.” Brendon said, biting down on whatever was in his mouth. “Ow!” Brendon exclaimed, pulling his hand away. He examined his spit slick finger. 

 

“Why isn't my blood red?” Brendon asked, heart skipping. His blood was definitely supposed to be red, not clear. “Is it because I don't have enough iron? Nobody actually dies from not eating, right?” 

 

“Oh Jesus.” Ryan cursed, running a hand through his hair. 

 

“What?” Brendon asked, startled. 

 

“No, no, you’re fine.” Ryan said. “That’s just spit, Bren. Not blood.” 

 

“Oh.” 

 

“I’m gonna fucking kill Walker, God help me.” Ryan muttered. “Here,” he said, handing Brendon the cup of water. “Drink up.” 

 

Brendon took the cup, pressing his lips to the edge, ready to drink, but he stopped short. What if it was poisoned? Ryan was angry with him, right?  He put the cup down. 

 

“You gotta get that out of your system, Brendon. Come on, drink up.” Ryan urged, sitting next to him and trying to hand him the cup again. 

 

He had to be smart about this. He couldn't let Ryan know he was onto him. Brendon took the cup gingerly, taking big fake gulps. 

 

Ryan burst out laughing. “Whatcha doing, B?” 

 

Fuck. “Fuck.” Brendon said, putting the cup down again. “I can't drink this, Ryan. I’m sorry.” he said very formally. 

 

“Oh yeah?” Ryan asked, looking rather amused. “Why not?” 

 

“Well…” Brendon started. “What if it’s poisoned?” 

 

Ryan rolled his eyes and took a sip of the water, making Brendon’s heart leap. “See? It’s fine.” 

 

Brendon paused, looking at Ryan’s hand wrapped around the styrofoam. “Holy shit, Ryan.” 

 

“What?” Ryan asked, sitting up straighter. 

 

“Your hands are so fucking big, what the fuck?” 

 

Ryan giggled at him. “They’re not  _ that  _ big.” 

 

“Yes they are, what the fuck.” Brendon grabbed Ryan’s free hand, pressing his against it. He lined up their palms. Brendon’s fingertips barely hit Ryan’s second knuckle. Ryan laughed at him again. 

 

He was momentarily distracted by the way Ryan’s skin felt against his own. Brendon felt his heart rate pick up. He felt tingly. 

 

Brendon took one of Ryan’s fingers into his mouth, sucking lightly. 

 

“Jesus  _ fuck,  _ Brendon, what the fuck?”  __ Ryan exclaimed. 

 

He took Ryan’s hand out of his mouth, though kept grip on his wrist. When did Ryan start wearing blush? “Wanted to see if you tasted as good as you look.” he said easily. 

 

Ryan raised his eyebrows at him, mischief in his eyes. “And the verdict?” he asked, voice coming out weaker than he wanted. 

 

“You taste like cigarettes.” Brendon said matter-of-factly. 

 

“Yeah, it's probably from the cigarettes.” Ryan deadpanned.

 

“Yeah, probably.” Brendon agreed seriously. 

 

“Have you ever done any drugs before or is this your first time?” Ryan asked, letting Brendon play with his fingers. He bent them all down to Ryan’s palm one by one, then up again. 

 

“Like, weed and stuff.” Brendon shrugged. “Nothing worse than that, though.” 

 

“Okay.” Ryan said. “And you just took the pill Jon gave you?” 

 

Brendon nodded. “Yup, both of ‘em.” 

 

“You took  _ two? _ ” Ryan asked. “How long ago?” 

 

“I dunno. A few minutes after you left.” He said. He felt his stomach drop. “Why? Is that bad? He said not to take both, but he said I wouldn't die. Did he lie to me?” 

 

“No, you’ll be okay.” Ryan said, rubbing his shoulder, though he didn't look convinced. Brendon felt sparks. 

 

“You’re so pretty.” Brendon gushed. “Even with your big-ass alien hands.” 

 

Ryan clapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing. He fell back on his free hand, shaking with laughter.

 

“Don't laugh at me!” Brendon pouted. 

 

“I- I’m sorry!” Ryan said between giggles. “I just- you heard yourself right?” 

 

“Hey, maybe I have a xenokink.” Brendon protested. 

 

“I’m not indulging that.” Ryan laughed, pulling himself together again. 

 

“No, don't change the subject, I gotta tell you how pretty you are before I forget.” 

 

“Well I can't be  _ that _ pretty if you could forget.” 

 

“Oh ho ho, that is where you’re wrong, Ryan. You’re so fuckin’ pretty with your eyes and- and your fuckin’ hair, look at you!” Brendon exclaimed. 

 

Ryan blushed, ears bright red. He opened his mouth, but Brendon cut him off. “No, really, can I just-” 

 

Brendon sat up on the bed, pulling Ryan further up. He pushed him back against the wall and crawled onto his lap. 

 

“This is payback.” Brendon said, shifting his hips. 

 

“Oh, joy.” Ryan grimaced, gripping Brendon’s hips, stilling them. “I’m not having sex with you while you’re high as a fucking kite, man.” 

 

“But Ryan!” Brendon whined shamelessly. “I feel like the fucking sandman.” 

 

Ryan cocked an eyebrow at him. 

 

“You know, the one from that Spider-Man movie. The good one, with Tobey Maguire.” 

 

“Tobey Maguire is the only Spider-Man I will  _ ever _ acknowledge.” Ryan said. 

 

“Good. Then you know what I mean.” 

 

“I’m afraid I don't.” Ryan replied, pushing Brendon’s hair back. He shivered. He felt Ryan’s fingers creating paths through his hair. 

 

“Like…” Brendon trailed off, trying to choose the right words. “Like, my skin feels like moving sand and whenever you touch me, it’s like when cars pass through him, you know?” 

 

“That sounds incredible.” Ryan giggled at him, absolutely beaming.  “Still not sleeping with you, though.” 

 

Brendon took a deep breath, a wave of vertigo washing over him. 

 

“You okay?” Ryan asked, tightening his grip around Brendon’s waist. 

 

“I don't know.” Brendon said, brows coming together. 

 

It was so strange. It felt so fucking good to just be so close to Ryan, their faces just inches apart. Ryan’s skin on his own, the pressure of his hands on his back, it was so euphoric that Brendon struggled to remember that it was  _ Ryan  _ that was making him feel that way. 

 

Ryan ran a hand through his hair and it was  _ so good  _ that Brendon literally didn't know what to do with himself. He let out a shaky whimper, cupping Ryan’s jaw. 

 

“Please.” is all Brendon could manage before crashing his lips into Ryan’s. He felt like their lips were melting together, anywhere their skin was connected was melting together, connecting them. Brendon had never felt so warm. 

 

Ryan pulled away with a gasp. “Jesus.” he muttered, wiping Brendon’s cheeks. “Why are you crying, baby?” he asked quietly. 

 

“You’re not real. You can't be.” Brendon rushed out, panic beginning to set in. “You’re not real and I’m gonna wake up and be alone again.” he said, all too honestly. 

 

“I’m real, Bren. I’m here, I promise.” Ryan said, frowning. He wiped his thumbs over Brendon’s cheeks. “You can feel me, I’m here.” 

 

Brendon grinned through the tears. He really  _ could  _ feel Ryan. 

 

“I’m gonna kill Jon Walker.” Ryan said again. 

 

“Are you kidding, Ry? I’ve never felt so close to you.”

 

Ryan blinked at him, eyes sparkling. He pressed his lips against Brendon’s again, making Brendon’s brain flicker in and out of focus. The longer he was connected to Ryan, the more he melted into him, and the harder it was to be  _ unconnected  _ from him. 

 

Brendon pulled away, three words on the tip of his tongue, but as he opened his eyes, he lost his train of thought. Ryan’s eyes were hooded, his gaze focused on Brendon’s lips. He licked them, watching Ryan follow the motion.  

 

Ryan’s eyes flickered up to meet his and Brendon immediately remembered. “I love you.” Brendon spit out, making Ryan go scarlet. “I love you so fucking much and it's so scary, but I love you so much.” 

 

Ryan opened his mouth but nothing came out. He composed himself, shutting his mouth. “You love everyone, Bren. You’re high as fuck.” he said with a forced laugh. 

 

“Nah, I love  _ you _ .” Brendon insisted, pressing his face into Ryan’s neck. 

 

Ryan ticked but Brendon didn't notice. “Brendon-” 

 

“I do, Ryan, I-” A knock on the door stopped Brendon short. 

 

Ryan sprung up, somehow fazing through Brendon. “Don't you say a word.” he warned, going to open the door. 

 

Brendon kept his head down, lip between his teeth to keep himself quiet. He even sat on his hands, which felt fucking weird. He just told Ryan he loved him. The reality of the situation began to set in. 

 

“Oh good, you brought him his lunch.” Brendon heard Dr. Uma say. 

 

He didn't hear Ryan reply. 

 

He shouldn’t have said anything. Why did he say something? When did he even come to the conclusion that he  _ loved  _ Ryan?

 

“It would be good if you could get him to family group.” She said in a hushed voice. “Neither of you have been there in a while.” 

 

“I’ll do my best.” Ryan said. He shut the door a few seconds later. 

 

Brendon looked up anxiously. Ryan was staring off into space, pulling on his hair intermittently. He glanced at Brendon and sighed. “If I don't get you to group, Dr. Uma’s going to start coming around with questions, and I can't take you to group.” 

 

“Why not?” Brendon asked. 

 

“Because you took two MDMA pills on a nearly empty stomach and if Triple D asks you anything, you’re fucked. Actually, me, you, and Jon would be fucked.” 

 

“I can do it!” Brendon exclaimed. “I can. There are a billion excuses I could make, come on. I’m a great fucking actor, you just saw for yourself!” 

 

“That wasn't acting, Brendon, that was pretending you didn't exist.” A pair of footsteps passed the door, making Ryan turn uneasily. He sighed again. “You’re going to stay silent and look miserable, okay? I’ll deflect for you. Come on.” 

 

“Deal.” Brendon replied with a smile, getting up.

 

“Jesus Christ, we’re fucked.” 

 

~*~

 

Getting to Dr. Double D’s meeting room was the easy part. Brendon held onto the corner of Ryan’s shirt as he led him into the room. 

 

Ryan dragged Brendon by the arm to one of the full sized couches. They squeezed in next to Jon Walker The Bass Player and Spencer. Ryan was careful to make sure Brendon was sitting on the outside, so he wouldn't have sensory overload from all the touch or something stupid like that. 

 

“He took both, didn't he?” Jon whispered to Ryan. Spencer snorted. 

 

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” Ryan growled back. 

 

“He can’t be here,” Jon began, sternly. “He’ll take all of us down with him!” 

 

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with him, then?” Ryan whisper-yelled back. “Leave him in his room to have a fucking panic attack because he thinks the walls are trying to kill him?” 

 

“Hey, it’s not my fault your boyfriend can't handle my shit.” 

 

Ryan tensed, but Brendon laid a hand on his shoulder. “He’s not-” 

 

“I can handle my everything just fine, thanks.” Brendon interjected. 

 

“Yeah?” Jon asked. “Then get back to your fucking room before-” 

 

Dr. Double D stomped into the room, closely followed by Frank. Brendon forgot about him for a blissful moment. A wave of guilt passed through him. Frank didn't meet his eyes, just sat down, dark rings around his eyes. 

 

“Ryan?” Dr. Double D began, taking a look around the room. His gaze landed on Ryan. “You have a phone call.” 

 

Ryan paled, eyes wide. Ryan didn't  _ get  _ phone calls. He stood up. “Watch him.” He hissed to Jon before crossing the room. 

 

Brendon felt a pit in his stomach. Something bad was gonna happen. Something very bad was gonna happen, Brendon could feel it. He had no idea what it was, but it wasn't good. 

 

Brendon felt the familiar flutter of an oncoming panic attack. 

 

“Okay.” Dr. Double D began, taking a seat at the front of the room and pulling Brendon from his thoughts. “ I feel like I have to address what happened earlier this morning. Nothing specific, just that Gerard is going through a bit of a hard time right now, and will need your support when he returns. I also have to ask how you are all feeling.” 

 

Brendon took a deep breath. Shit, shit,  _ shit.  _ This is the  _ last  _ thing Brendon needed to hear about right now.

 

“Is Pete gonna be okay?” Spencer asked. 

 

“Yes.” Dr. Double D replied. “He’s fine, they’re just keeping him in the infirmary to make sure he’s not dehydrated.” 

 

Spencer nodded to himself. 

 

“So, how’s everybody doing? Frank?” Dr. Double D asked. 

 

“Go fuck yourself.” Frank huffed. 

 

“Point taken.” Dr. Double D said. He looked around, eyes falling on Brendon.

 

“How you doing, Brendon? You seem a little anxious.” Dr. Double D said, making him jump. 

 

Brendon could feel Jon Walker tense beside him. “Well I’m sure he’s still a little shaken up.” he supplied, voice tight.

 

“Mmhm.” Brendon hummed, nodding. 

 

Dr. Double D raised an eyebrow at him, then Jon. He opened his mouth, but Ryan came back in, cutting him off. He was pale as a ghost, moving like one too. It scared Brendon for a second. He actually looked like he was floating. 

 

“U-uh, Brendon, y-you have a phone call too.” Ryan stuttered.

 

Brendon’s eyes went wide as he stood up. 

 

“You okay, Ryan?” Dr. Double D asked. “You don’t get a lot of phone calls.” 

 

“Yeah. It was fine.” Ryan said to the Doctor as he passed Brendon. “Just my case worker.” 

 

Brendon couldn't catch the end of the conversation as he left the room. He made his way over to the front desk, but there were no staff, just Patrick.

 

“There’s no phone call.” Patrick said as Brendon came up next to him. “But Ryan said I had to get you out of there.” 

 

“Oh.” Brendon said. “Thanks.” 

 

“Pete is out of the infirmary.” Patrick said after a beat. “Jon gave us something to help celebrate. Wanna roll with us?” 

 

It was probably a good idea to be with other people who were rolling too. 

 

“Sure.” Brendon said. 

 

Patrick nodded, taking off without another word. 

 

~*~

 

Pete and Patrick shared a room on the other side of the unit, across from Gerard’s. 

 

Patrick led Brendon to the door before pausing. “You go in. I need to grab something.” 

 

Brendon nodded, suddenly feeling very out of place. He didn't really know either of these people, why were they helping him? Patrick nodded at the door when he didn't move. Brendon uttered an “oops” and pushed in, letting Patrick shut the door behind him. 

 

Pete sat on his bed, dark bruise on his jaw and his nose looked a little crooked. 

 

“Hey, you don't look so hot either.” Pete complained when Brendon wouldn't stop staring. Brendon knew he was being rude, he wouldn't like anyone staring at him either, but this was  _ his fault _ . And every bruise and scratch reminded him of that. 

 

Brendon swallowed. “Pete, I’m so so-” 

 

“Save it Brendon, it’s not your fault.” Pete sighed, waving him over. 

 

Brendon sat at the edge of his bed. “You shouldn't have been involved in that-” 

“ _ I  _ shouldn't be involved?” Pete asked incredulously. “Brendon, you’re the one getting dragged into this. This was all drama that was supposed to stay out of Clover Fields, but now that you’re a part of it, you gotta know the whole story.” 

 

This was not a good time for this conversation, Brendon thought as he saw another shadow move out of the corner of his eye. But his mouth betrayed him. “Okay.” 

 

~*~

 

Somehow, Brendon had managed to stay attentive through Pete’s entire story. What had happened was, Pete moved to New Jersey with his dad for a few months for his dad’s work. He moved a lot as a kid. Pete met Mikey at some dive and fell in love with him instantly. Pete said he never believed in love at first sight until he met Mikey. 

 

They ended up talking, but Mikey was pretty reserved, only showing mild interest. Pete didn't give up. He eventually got Mikey’s number and spent the next month texting him almost constantly. 

 

“He was my best friend.” Pete said, sniffling. “I never saw him, but he was my best friend and I was his.” 

 

Pete spent his time trying to meet up with Mikey, but Pete’s dad wouldn't let anyone come over and Mikey never even suggested his house. One day, Pete convinced him to go see a concert with him. 

 

“That’s how it started.” Pete said wistfully. “Our Summer of Like.” 

 

“Like Summer of Love?” Brendon asked. 

 

Pete nodded, smile falling. “Only, he didn't love me.” 

 

After that, Mikey was more willing to go out with Pete. They would go to any show that came to town, drinking until they couldn't see straight and taking any pill thrown their way. 

 

“It was so great, Brendon. Those were the best nights of my life. He let me kiss him, but he wanted a sex thing, and I don't- didn't have sex with guys at the time.” Pete’s expression twisted into something angry, full of disgust. “If I had only just fucking accepted myself.” 

 

Pete fell in love. It was the first time his dad stayed in one place long enough for him to meet someone. Love kept Pete blind for a long time. He didn't start to notice the bruises until it was too late. 

 

“He was always covered in bruises, the poor kid.” Pete shook his head. “I thought he was getting them in the pits of heavier shows, never thought anything of it, until I picked him up.” 

 

Mikey had called him crying in the middle of the night, offering no explanation for the tears. He just gave Pete an address. 

 

When Pete picked him up, he was covered in belt buckle shaped welts and shivering. Pete didn't ask, just took him away. 

 

“I promised I’d get him out of that fucking town. When I had enough money, which I couldn't save up because I was spending it on drugs, I was gonna take him away.” Pete said. “But he didn't want a relationship. He said he didn't want to be loved, which was bullshit. Everyone wants to be loved.” 

 

Brendon nodded. 

 

“The last time I saw him, we got into a bad fight. I told him I loved him and he called me deluded and stupid for wasting my time on him.” Pete took a shaky breath. “He said he never wanted to see me again, so when my dad asked if I wanted to stay in Jersey, I said fuck no. We left the next day to my dad’s next job.” 

 

Pete never forgot about Mikey. Thought about him everyday until it made the news. “Family of three killed in freak fire”. 

 

“I didn't even know Gerard existed until he was in the news, the Sole Survivor of the Jersey Fire. I never thought I’d ever be living in the same building as him. Well- I thought about living with Mikey, but…” Pete trailed off as Patrick entered. 

 

“Got the stuff.” He said, ignoring Pete’s tears, thought Brendon didn't miss the worried glance he sent him. 

 

Patrick pulled one of the pills out, passing the other to Pete.

 

“I thought you were trying to get sober.” Brendon said as Pete knocked back the pill. 

 

“Don't really have any reason to, anymore, right?” 

 

~*~

Brendon hung out with the two of them for a couple of hours, until room time was called. 

 

Ryan was walking out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand as Brendon entered. 

 

“Hey.” Ryan smiled, though he wouldn't meet Brendon’s eyes. 

“Hey.” Brendon replied. “Everything go okay with that phone call?”

 

“Mmhm.” Ryan hummed, shifting on his feet. 

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Brendon asked. 

 

“Yeah, I’m fine, don't worry.” Ryan smiled. “You still rolling?” 

 

Brendon nodded. “A little.” He definitely still was, but he didn't think he was getting any higher. He had probably peaked already. 

 

“Good.” Ryan said, closing the gap and pressing his lips to Brendon’s. Brendon jumped like he had been electrocuted, and he honestly felt like he was. 

 

“Lay down.” Ryan said, pulling Brendon’s hoodie over his head and pushing him toward his bed. 

 

Brendon backed down on the bed, letting Ryan settle between his parted knees. Ryan cupped the side of Brendon’s neck, pressing kisses against the column of his throat. 

 

“Fuck.” Brendon murmured. Every press of Ryan’s lips echoed against his skin, sending shivers through him. “Everything is like, at 1000%.” 

 

“Good.” Ryan whispered, sucking small marks on the side of Brendon’s neck that Dallon hadn't claimed. 

 

Brendon was still too fucking blasted to wonder why Ryan was suddenly changing his mind about sleeping with him while he was high. Ryans eyes were clenched shut tightly, heavily leaning his hips into Brendon’s. 

 

Brendon pulled Ryan’s shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. Ryan switched back to kissing Brendon on the mouth, urgently licking into his mouth. 

 

Brendon let his lips part, tongue sliding against Ryan’s. He tasted like toothpaste. Brendon’s heart was beating fast, he felt like putty in Ryan’s hands. He arched into Ryan’s touch, desperately trying to get more friction. 

 

“You wanna keep your shirt on?” Ryan asked, pulling away to suck in deep breaths. 

 

Brendon nodded, pulling Ryan back down, tangling his hands in Ryan’s hair. Ryan ground his hips down into Brendon’s making him moan. 

 

“Thank you.” He said into Ryan’s mouth, though he didn't remember ever moving his lips. 

 

Ryan replied by palming Brendon through his sweatpants. “ _ Fuck. _ ” he groaned. 

 

“I didn't take you for a loud one.” Ryan mumbled, pulling his pants down. 

 

“You have no idea how good  _ everything _ feels.” he replied. 

 

“I’ll have to talk to Jon, see if he has more.” Ryan smirked, pulling Brendon’s cock free, stroking a few times. 

 

“I would  _ love _ to do Molly with you.” Brendon moaned, his head falling back.

 

Ryan ticked. He shook his head, trying to brush it off. He pressed his lips to the head of Brendon’s dick, slowly licking up the underside. 

 

“I need more, baby, please.”  Brendon whined, low and needy. 

 

Ryan shoved two fingers into Brendon’s mouth, simultaneously sinking down Brendon’s length. Brendon moaned around his fingers, hollowing his cheeks.  

 

Ryan pulled his fingers away with a soft pop, pulling Brendon’s boxers lower and pressing a finger into him. 

 

Brendon bit his lip to keep from calling out. He could feel himself stretch over each one of Ryan’s knuckles. Ryan slipped in a second finger, building a slow rhythm, stretching Brendon open. 

 

“So pretty, all spread out for me.” Ryan whispered, pecking Brendon quickly. 

 

“C’mere.” Brendon said, pulling Ryan down so he could kiss him properly, sucking on his lower lip. He popped open the button on Ryan’s pants, impatiently shoving his hand into Ryan’s underwear. 

 

Ryan let out a choked groan, burying his face in Brendon’s shoulder. Brendon took the opportunity to flip them over. Ryan’s fingers slipped out of Brendon, making him shiver and not in a good way. 

 

He took Ryan’s pants down, boxers too, and wasted no time taking Ryan into his mouth. Ryan hummed contently, folding one arm behind his head, the other threading through Brendon’s hair. 

 

It was harder for Ryan to battle The Voice when he wasn't the one doing the work, but Brendon was  _ good _ . He could take his entire length down his throat, sucking hard and it was almost enough to distract him. He tugged at his own hair anyways, trying to get it to shut the fuck up. 

 

Brendon pulled off, string of saliva keeping them connected. He spit on Ryan’s cock, twisting his wrist expertly. 

 

“Want you to fuck me.” Brendon said, straddling Ryan’s hips. “I’m ready.” 

 

“I don't have a condom.” Ryan said, albeit a bit distracted. 

 

“I’m clean.” Brendon said. 

 

Ryan nodded. “Okay, me too.” 

 

Brendon pressed the tip of Ryan’s cock to his hole, lowering himself down, just slightly. 

 

“Can you do it without lube?” Ryan asked. 

 

Brendon leaned across Ryan over to his dresser, pulling out a small bottle of unscented lotion from his drawer. “This should be fine.” He shrugged, pouring some into his hands and slicking Ryan up. 

 

He settled over Ryan again, sinking down Ryan’s length, painfully slowly. 

 

“Fuck fuck  _ fuck _ .” Ryan groaned. “Jesus fucking Christ, Brendon.” 

 

Brendon took a deep breath. He felt like if he exhaled too hard, he’d make himself split in half. He shifted his hips, trying to get used to the feeling of Ryan filling him. 

 

“Fuck.” Ryan said again, angrier this time.

 

“You okay?” Brendon asked. 

 

Ryan chuckled, making Brendon shiver. “Just the usual.” 

 

Brendon gave him a look. “You’ve been weird, are you sure?” 

 

Ryan wouldn't meet his eyes for a moment. “Sometimes, when it gets really bad he tells me to do bad things.” 

 

“What kind of bad things?” Brendon asked quietly. 

 

“He wants me to hurt people. To hurt you. Like, he wants me to scratch you, make you bleed.” Ryan admitted. 

 

Brendon was quiet for a moment. “Do it.” 

 

“What?” Ryan asked. 

 

“Do it. Scratch me if it’ll help him shut up.” Brendon said. “I can take it.” 

 

“Brendon.” Ryan sighed. “I don't  _ want _ to hurt you.” 

 

“Will it make him be quiet?” 

 

Ryan hesitated, but nodded. 

 

“Then do it.” Brendon said, moving Ryan’s hands from his hips so they were resting on his lower back, under his t-shirt. 

 

Ryan slowly slid his hands up Brendon’s shirt, fingertips just pressing into his shoulderblades. 

 

“C’mon, you barely have nails anyways.” Brendon urged, rolling his hips. 

 

Ryan groaned, digging his nails in and pulling down, just enough to sting. 

 

Brendon moaned in response, carefully lifting his hips and slamming them back down again. On top of everything else, the pain felt so fucking good. 

 

They moaned in unison and Brendon did it again, and again, gasping loudly every time Ryan hit his prostate. 

 

“Come here.” Ryan managed, pulling Brendon closer, so they were chest to chest. Brendon kissed Ryan’s neck sloppily, screwing his eyes shut as Ryan held his hips up, fucking him. 

 

“Harder, you can go harder.” Brendon panted. 

 

Ryan nodded, scratching down Brendon’s back  _ hard _ . He could feel the blood smearing with every pass of Ryan’s hands. Brendon let out a broken sound, trying to muffle it in Ryan’s shoulder. 

 

Brendon slammed his hips back down into Ryan’s meeting his thrusts halfway. 

 

“Ryan,  _ shit _ .” Brendon gasped, reaching between the two of them to stroke his cock. 

 

“You’re  _ so _ , so-” Ryan swallowed hard, throwing his head back. Brendon took the opportunity to suck marks into Ryan’s skin, low enough for his collar to cover. “So good.” he finished.  

 

“Please, Ryan I’m so close.” 

 

Ryan held Brendon tight, rolling his hips up into him. “Come, baby.” 

 

It only took a few more pulls of his cock before Brendon was coming onto Ryan’s chest with a muffled shout. 

 

Ryan dug his nails in hard, pulling Brendon down into a kiss as he reached his own orgasm, spilling inside of Brendon. 

 

Brendon rolled off, onto the bed whimpering as Ryan slipped out of him. Brendon had never had anyone come inside of him before. He could feel it dripping out of him, and he didn't really know what to make of it. 

 

“So?” Brendon asked when he caught his breath again. “Did it shut him up?” 

 

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. Is your back okay?” Ryan asked, rolling onto his side so he could face Brendon. 

 

Now that Ryan mentioned it, it did kind of sting to lay on his back. He frowned, rolling onto his stomach. “Dunno. You tell me.” 

 

Brendon was careful to keep the sides of his shirt down as Ryan pulled the back up. 

 

“Oh, fuck me.” Ryan cursed. 

 

“What?” Brendon asked, looking over his shoulder. He couldn't see shit. 

 

“Brendon, I’m so sorry.” 

 

“What?” Brendon asked again, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He stood up and grabbed a new pair of underwear from his dresser. He made his way to the bathroom, flicking the light on. 

 

Brendon pulled the back of his shirt up so he could look over his shoulder into the mirror. Dark red lines were scattered all over his back. Some of the scratches were still bleeding, others were caked in dried blood. There was one part of Brendon’s shoulder that had dark crescent shaped marks, from Ryan’s nails. 

 

Ryan came and leaned in the doorway, now clothed as well. “I knew that was a bad idea.” Ryan said. 

 

“It's okay, Ryan. I told you to.” Brendon said, letting his shirt fall back down into place. Brendon actually thought it was kind of hot. 

He wrapped his arms around Ryan’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Ryan hesitantly placed his hands on Brendon’s lower back, hugging him back. 

 

“I gotta wash my hands.” Ryan said, stepping out of Brendon’s embrace. 

 

Brendon nodded. He grabbed an old towel out of his dirty laundry and used it to wipe up the mess they left on Ryan’s bed. 

 

“You never ate your lunch.” Ryan commented as he shut the bathroom light off. 

 

Brendon shrugged. “Dinner’s soon anyways.” 

 

“You’re gonna get in trouble.” 

 

“I’ll be fine.” Brendon replied, tossing the towel away and getting back into bed. 

 

Ryan sighed, crawling in next to him. He wrapped an arm around Brendon’s shoulders. Brendon wrapped an arm around Ryan’s middle. “I don't wanna go to dinner.” Brendon complained. 

 

“You’re already on a meal plan, B.” Ryan said. “You can't afford to miss any more meals.” 

 

“It's not about the food.” Brendon said, half truthfully. “It’s about Frank and Gerard.” 

 

“Frank’s not mad.” 

 

“How is he not mad?” Brendon asked. “I sent his boyfriend on a downward spiral.” 

 

“Don't give yourself so much credit.” Ryan snorted. " _ Lynz _ sent Gerard on a downward spiral when she took him overnight, and did God knows what to him.” 

 

Brendon sighed. 

 

“It’ll be good for you to talk to Frank.” 

 

“You promise he’s not gonna be mad?” 

 

Ryan sighed. “Well, not at you, at least.” 

 

~*~ 

 

They dropped off Brendon’s lunch tray on their way to dinner, but not before Brendon could sneak more than half of it into the trash. 

 

Frank was at their usual table, which was a good sign. He ran a hand through his messy hair, his sleeve rolling up in the process, exposing what looked like fresh cigarette burns, among other assorted open wounds. He quickly pulled it back down, looking around to make sure no one saw. 

 

Brendon glanced at Ryan, but he didn't see it.    

 

Brendon sat down cautiously, Ryan following suit. 

 

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Frank said after a moment, eyes glued to his cuticles that he was ripping apart. “And I’d like to apologize on behalf of Gerard.” 

 

Brendon couldn't even believe what he was hearing. “No,  _ I’m  _ sorry.” Brendon said. “I did the one thing everyone told me not to do.” 

 

Frank shrugged halfheartedly. “You just asked him when he last saw Mikey. It was Pete that dropped the bomb and I’m not mad at him either.”

 

“Is Gee... okay?” Brendon asked. “No one's seen him.” 

 

“They moved him to the infirmary.” Frank said. “He uh… he tried to slit his wrists.” 

 

Brendon felt like he was gonna pass out. 

 

“What?” Ryan asked. 

 

“He didn't get very far. Just broke a glass cabinet, and was restrained.” Frank said.

 

“Have you seen him?” Brendon asked. “Since?” 

 

“Yeah.” Frank said grimly. He glanced behind Brendon, then did a double take. “Motherfucker.” 

 

Frank was out of his seat before Brendon even had time to turn around. 

 

Lynz was standing in the doorway, cautiously.  Frank bolted across the cafeteria, straight for Lynz. 

 

“Hey!” A voice called. 

 

A security guard twice the size of Frank grabbed him mid-sprint, lifting him straight out of the air. 

 

“This is your fucking fault!” Frank screamed at her, his voice cracking. He elbowed the guard in the stomach with all his might, nearly escaping before the man recovered. He grabbed Frank by the leg and pulled him back, pinning him to the ground. 

 

“You ruined him! You fucking ruined him!” Frank yelled, trying to wiggle away again. 

 

Lynz lips were parted like she was trying to speak, but no words came out. 

 

“You did this.” He said, defeated. “You ruined him. You  _ ruined _ him.” he cried. 

 

Lynz gasped, covering her mouth with a hand. She backed up slowly, shaking her head before spinning around and running out. 

 

Frank relaxed into the floor, letting out a broken sob. “She did it. It was her fault, she did it.” he kept whispering between sniffles. Brendon had never seen Frank cry before. 

 

The man slowly got off Frank. “C’mon.” He said. 

 

Frank didn't move. The man pulled Frank up by the bicep, dusting him off. “I don't- I can't- please.” Frank said, voice cracking. 

 

“C’mon.” The man said again, leading Frank out of the room. 

 

“Shit.” Ryan cursed. 

 

“Yeah.” Brendon agreed. 

 

Ryan took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “We gotta get your dinner.” 

 

Brendon rolled his eyes, getting up. He followed Ryan wordlessly to the dinner line. He had never actually been in the food line before. 

 

The trays of steaming food made Brendon feel sick. Ryan took a tray, helping himself like it was no big deal. 

 

“Hi, you must be Brendon.” An older woman said with a warm smile. “I’m Jenny. I’ve got your tray for you right here.” 

 

“Thanks Jenny.” Brendon said with a tight smile. He took the tray and caught up with Ryan. 

 

They began their short walk back to their table when Dallon called out. 

 

“Hey guys!” Dallon exclaimed. He was sat alone with Ian. “You wanna join us?” 

 

“Uh,” Ryan began. “We were sitting-” 

 

“Sure.” Brendon interrupted, receiving the pleading look Dallon was giving him. “Frank left anyways.” he said, nudging Ryan subtly in the ribs. 

 

“Yeah.” Ryan agreed, taking a seat as far away from Dallon as he could, across from Ian.

 

“So how you liking it here so far, Ian?” Brendon asked, taking the plastic cover off his tray. 

 

“You sure chose one hell of a time to get admitted.” Ryan joked uneasily.

 

Dinner was pasta with meat sauce and green beans, it wouldn't be too hard to get rid of. He drank a few sips of water before picking up his fork. Brendon calculated that he’d need to take a sip of water after every other mouthful. That’s how he’d be able to use his bottle of water most efficiently. Any left over, he’d chug. 

 

“You’re telling me.” Ian chuckled. “It doesn't seem so bad. This is a step down for me.”   


“Oh yeah?” Ryan asked. “Where were you before?” 

 

Brendon started on the vegetables first. If he was going to start digesting anything, it’s probably better that it's something with vitamins. 

 

“Sanders Institute for the Mentally Fucked or whatever the hell it’s called.” Ian replied. 

 

“I’ve heard about that place.” Brendon said. “I had a roommate who went there when there was a chlamydia problem.” 

 

“Oh yeah, I heard about that.” Ian said, sticking a forkful of pasta into his mouth. “The people there fuck like rabbits, it was absolutely crazy. I just don't get it.” he shrugged. 

 

“I know, right?”  Brendon asked, taking a sip of water. “Crazy hormonal teens.” 

 

“Perks of being asexual, huh?” Ian laughed. 

 

Brendon choked on his water. Ian just looked at him, completely neutral. 

 

“Sorry.” He said between coughs. It looked like it was new information for Dallon too, considering the horrified look on his face. “There’s nothing wrong with that, I just drink too fast.” 

 

Ian nodded with a tight smile. 

 

Brendon risked a glance at Ryan who was wearing an unreadable expression. 

 

“So.” Ryan said, breaking the silence. “You said you play some guitar, right?” 

 

“Yeah.” Ian said, perking up. “Do you?” 

 

“I do.” Ryan replied. “You can have your family bring your guitar if you haven't already. There's a music group tomorrow that’s pretty fun.” 

 

“Yeah, Dallon’s been telling me.” He said, smiling fondly at Dallon and making him blush. “Right, Dallon?” 

 

“Oh, uh yeah.” He said, snapping out of whatever trance Ian put on him. “I figured he could come play with us. Brendon too, if you want.” Dallon said, looking between Ryan and Brendon. 

 

“Yeah of course.” Ryan smiled. 

 

“Sounds good to me.” Brendon agreed. 

 

~*~ 

 

By the time Brendon finished his dinner, he really wanted to fucking die. 

 

“I’ll get your tray for you.” Ryan said, taking Brendon’s empty tray. He gave Brendon a warm smile, gleaming with pride. 

 

Brendon returned the smile of course, though he felt like he was about to burst. That was the most he’d eaten in maybe three weeks. He could feel his skin stretching to compensate for all the food and it was the most disgusting feeling. Brendon needed to get that shit out of himself fucking soon. 

 

Dallon and Ian had slipped away sometime during clean up. 

 

“I think Janis is taking a group to smoke.” Ryan said when he returned to Brendon’s side.

 

“You go ahead.” Brendon said, putting all his effort into seeming normal and okay. “I wanna talk to Dallon.” 

 

“Good idea.” Ryan said. “Good luck.” 

 

Brendon shrugged, his skin crawling. “I’ll catch up with you.” 

 

Ryan nodded, breaking away to catch up with Spencer and Jon as they made their way outside. 

 

Brendon practically ran to his room, into the bathroom and locked the door. He turned the faucet on- just in case- and dropped to his knees. 

 

Brendon knew it was not going to be a pleasant experience, pasta never was, but he thought the water would’ve helped even a little. It didn't. 

 

It felt like ages before Brendon was throwing up just stomach acid. He spit one last time and flushed the toilet. He had to use the sink to pull himself up, then hold himself up as he waited for the room to stop spinning. 

 

He quickly washed his hands and the sweat off his face before brushing his teeth. Brendon wrapped a hand around his wrist, measuring. His thumb was touching just past the first knuckle of his middle finger. He was doing fucking well. Well enough that he almost wanted to look. Lift up his shirt and actually look. 

 

He pondered it for a few moments. It couldn't hurt, right? 

 

Brendon pulled off his sweater and t-shirt, carefully looking himself over. He knew it was a bad idea the second he felt his skin beginning to crawl. His stomach was still bulging out, even though he had purged. He pulled at his love handles angrily, digging his nails into the soft skin. 

 

Brendon thought about trying to puke more, but he also did need to talk to Dallon. He needed the alibi if nothing else. He pulled his shirts back on, promising himself that he’d work harder. 

 

Ryan wasn't back, Brendon noticed gratefully as he left the bathroom. Quiet murmuring caught his attention as he flicked the light off. Brendon crawled onto his bed and pressed his ear to the thin wall. 

 

Dallon and Ian must’ve been sitting right on the other side, Brendon guessed based on the volume of their voices. 

 

“I just don't want to freak you out.” Brendon heard Dallon say. 

 

“We’ve known each other plenty long-” 

 

“I know. That's why I- It doesn't matter. It’s not important.” 

 

“If it’s not important why can’t you just tell me, Dallon? I don't understand what you’re so afraid of. We’re not in high school anymore.” 

 

“You’ve heard the rumors at Saint Agnes’, Ian, everyone did.” 

 

“What makes you think I’m even still part of the church?” Ian asked, voice rising. 

 

“I don't know.” Dallon said. He sounded small. “Your cross, the way you carry yourself. It’s like nothing’s changed.” 

 

“That's- you’ve always had this like, idea of who you thought I was. You don’t know me, Dallon. You never knew me and you didn't even bother trying to. I thought we were becoming friends but then one day you had to go and brush me off in front of everyone, like I was nothing.” 

 

“I did that for you!” Dallon exclaimed. “Didn’t you notice? Anyone associated with me got the same treatment as I did. In their eyes being a friend of a fag was the same thing as getting your dick fucking sucked by one.” 

 

“For me?” Ian asked incredulously. “For me, Dallon, really? Do you know how much that fucking hurt me?” 

 

Dallon hesitated. “You had plenty of friends.” 

 

“Maybe, but I wanted  _ you _ .” 

 

“What?” Dallon asked in a choked voice. 

 

“You were so popular. My friends thought I was so cool for being friends with Dallon Weekes, The Dallon Weekes that was head of choir, senior alter boy-” 

 

“I surely fucked all that up.” 

 

“Stop it!” Ian yelled. “I don't care how many guys you’ve fucked, Dallon. I’ve never cared. It didn't make me hate you then and it’s not gonna make me hate you now, so stop it!” 

 

Dallon was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry.” He began. “I- I shouldn’t have handled it that way, I should’ve been direct with you. But I wanted you out of my life before you unearthed all my skeletons.” 

 

“You really had no faith in me?” Ian asked softly. 

 

“Well, like you said, I didn't really know you, but God did I want to- still want to.” Dallon stuttered out. 

 

“And I want you to.” Ian replied. 

 

Brendon figured he’d snooped enough for the evening. He got off his bed and made his way out the door. Ryan was only a few feet away, about to come in. 

 

“Talk to Dallon?” Ryan asked, walking past Brendon into the room. 

 

“Didn't have to.” Brendon admitted. He didn't want to lie unless he really had to. “These walls are pretty thin.” 

 

“That’s not the same thing.” Ryan snorted. 

 

“I know.” Brendon replied. “They’re working it out though. It’s probably better that I don't interfere.” 

 

“Fair enough.” Ryan nodded, unbuttoning his shirt. 

 

Brendon shifted nervously, watching Ryan watch him, lips parted while he undid his shirt. “Take a picture,” Ryan drawled. “It’ll last longer.” 

 

“Oh shut up!” Brendon exclaimed, cheeks turning scarlet. He went and busied himself with picking out his pyjamas while Ryan laughed at him. 

 

Brendon felt two hands snake around his waist from behind. He took a deep breath, sucking in while he exhaled in an attempt to make it seem natural. Ryan pressed up against him, resting his head on Brendon’s shoulder, breath tickling his ear. 

 

Brendon twisted around smoothly, tangling his fingers in the soft hairs at the nape of Ryan’s neck. He hummed, eyes fluttering. He looked at Brendon with something a little too real in his eyes, making Brendon’s heart rate pick up. 

 

“What?” Brendon asked anxiously. 

 

Ryan broke out into a grin. “Nothing.” He shrugged, shaking his head. 

 

“C’mon, what is it?” Brendon urged. 

 

Ryan just smiled even harder. “You’re just so…” he paused, licking his lips. A look of pain crossed Ryan’s features, momentarily making his smile falter. He shook his head again, a little harder this time. “It’s just, sometimes people can get to a point where they don’t think anything good could ever happen to them anymore. In the dark for so long you forget what light looks like, y’know?”

 

Brendon nodded, trying to meet Ryan’s gaze. 

 

“But you, uh… You give me hope that everything won't be awful forever.” Ryan finished, cheeks pink. He hesitantly met Brendon’s gaze. “And I’m eternally grateful.”  

 

Brendon opened his mouth but nothing came out. He was speechless. 

 

“You don't have to say anything.” Ryan said quickly. “I just wanted to thank you.” 

 

“O-of course.” Brendon stuttered out. 

 

Ryan beamed at him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “You should get to bed, you’ve had a rough couple of days.” 

 

“I honestly look like I’ve been jumped.” Brendon laughed. 

 

“I know.” Ryan frowned. “At least the hickie from Dallon is almost gone.” He said, lightly poking at the yellowed bruise before stepping away. 

 

“Yeah.” Brendon agreed, though his neck was still bruised from Ryan. That was different though. That made him feel good. 

 

He’d get dumb little butterflies when he caught sight of them in the mirror because Ryan had  _ put _ them there. Because he  _ liked _ Brendon. The thought made Brendon’s head spin. It felt so nice, but the underlying dread was still there. It would come to an end. Everything did eventually. 

 

“Night, Brendon.” Ryan said, flicking off the light and getting into his bed. 

 

“Night, Ry.” He replied, getting into his own. 

 

Brendon curled up in his bed, pulling his covers up to his chin. He could hear a quiet conversation going on on the other side of the wall, Ian’s side. 

 

“You never told me why you left.” Dallon said. 

 

Brendon heard Ian sigh. “I just felt like I… I needed to figure out who I was first, before I tried to figure out literally everything else, y’know?” 

 

Dallon hummed in response. “How did your parents feel?” 

 

Ian laughed a bitter laugh. “Oh they pretty much disowned me. What about you? How’d your family take it?” 

 

“I got kicked out of school for blowing a Pastor, how the fuck do you think they took it?” 

 

Ian was silent for a moment. “So it was true.” 

 

“You mean you didn't believe the rumors?” Dallon asked. 

 

“No!” Ian exclaimed. “I defended you, I never thought-” 

 

“Never thought I’d have actually gone through with it?”

 

“I guess I didn't really know you either.” Ian said after a moment.

 

Dallon sighed. 

 

It was quiet for long enough that Brendon imagined that one of them had fallen asleep, but then Dallon spoke. 

 

“I’m a satyromaniac.” 

 

“I’m a little rusty on my Greek, not that I was ever  _ not _ rusty.” Ian said lightly. 

 

“A sex addict.” Dallon rushed out. “That’s why I’m here. I wanted you to know.” 

 

“Oh.” 

 

“Hey Brendon?” Ryan asked, making Brendon jump. 

 

“Yeah?” he asked, turning over. 

 

“I don't think I can sleep without you.” Ryan said meekly. “I’d blame it on the voice but I also just… like you. Close to me.” 

 

Brendon didn't bother to fight his smile. He got out of bed and padded across the room, slipping into Ryan’s bed and holding him close. 

 

“I don’t think I can sleep without you either.” 

 

He was so fucked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so that was wild. IM TOTALLY OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS. with so many characters and ships and whatever, I'm totally open for yall to suggest things. Please do and ill totally add it and credit you
> 
> come tell me on tumblr: jon-walker-the-bass-player.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so..... this chapter gets weird. Mind the tags!
> 
> Also, please take a look at the end notes, I'd really appreciate the feedback

Saturdays were boing as fuck. So boring in fact, that Pete and Patrick had even written a song about it. A damn good one, too, though Ryan and Jon’s cover didn't do it justice.

 

Brendon ended up spending most of the day in an old room in the basement that had been converted into a makeshift music room with Ryan, Spencer, Jon, Dallon, and Ian. They mostly just talked, getting Ian and Brendon caught up on the History of Clover Fields. 

 

Because of its longer term placement, Clover Fields didn't have a lot of new admissions. Spencer had said that the last time two patients came in so close together, it was Frank and Gerard, almost two years ago. The last person to be admitted to Clover Fields before Brendon, was Dallon, 6 months ago. 

 

It was a coincidence that they could all play some sort of instrument. “It all started when Bob came.” Spencer began. “He brought some drums stick with him. I think it was just him and Gerard at the time. He was constantly in and out to go to court. He was no longer living in his house, so he was evicted. He couldn't get any of his things, so he sent his girlfriend at the time to pick some stuff up, but by the time she got there, the only thing left was his drum set.” 

 

Spencer told it like a ghost story, but long story short, the drums made their way to the basement. Pete and Patrick were transferred to the Nevada unit around the same time, with an electric bass and acoustic guitar. And that's where it really began. Almost everyone ended up bringing some kind of instrument, from keyboards to ukeleles. 

 

“You ever finish that song?” Spencer asked Ryan once the conversation died down. 

 

Ryan shrugged. “It's not meant to be acoustic.” 

 

“Can’t you use Frank’s guitar?” Dallon asked. 

 

“Maybe in practice, but I need to work through it. Not something I can do in an hour.” Ryan replied, almost bitterly. 

 

“Still.” Dallon pushed. 

 

“Can you just leave it alone?” Ryan snapped, eyes downcast.

 

Dallon held his hands up in surrender. 

 

Jon and Spencer looked at each other, then glanced at Brendon. He shrugged, anxiety rising. Ryan’s attitude couldn't have to do with the sex, could it? 

 

Brendon reached out to take Ryan’s hand, but Ryan pulled away last minute, making Brendon’s heart shatter. 

 

Spencer and Jon shared another one of their looks, then to Dallon. 

 

“So, we still sneaking out tonight?” Jon asked, smoothly changing the subject. 

 

“I’m down.” Dallon said. He looked over to Ian. “You?” 

 

“Sure. Where we going?” Ian asked. 

 

“There’s this fire pit,” Jon began. “It’s in the middle of the woods. We usually make a fire, jam out a bit, smoke, y’know, the works. You in?” 

 

“Yeah, why not?” Ian shrugged. 

 

“Great. Brendon?” Jon asked. 

 

“Uh.” Brendon said, glancing toward Ryan who still wouldn't meet his eyes. “Yeah, okay.” 

 

“Great!” Jon said again. “It’s a plan.” 

 

~*~

After dinner, a lie, and 20 minutes of his head in the toilet, Brendon fell back into his bed. He clutched his arms to his chest trying to stop shaking. He was always so fucking cold. 

 

Brendon’s eyes landed on Ryan’s discarded hoodie hanging off the corner of his bed. He used what was left of his strength to grab it, pulling it over his head. He pulled his knees in easily, curling into a ball on his bed. 

 

Ryan didn't come back from the after dinner smoke break. It had been at least an hour, Brendon thought while drifting in and out of consciousness. Maybe Ryan snuck out to the campfire without him. He pretended not to care. 

 

Right when Brendon was about to give up fighting sleep, Ryan came in, frowning deeply. He seemed to melt a little when he caught sight of Brendon. 

 

“Hi.” Brendon whispered after a moment. Ryan having frozen in place. 

 

“Hi.” He replied, voice scratchy. Brendon noticed that his eyes were a little red and puffy. 

 

“Are you okay?” Brendon asked, though he could probably guess the answer. 

 

Ryan nodded unconvincingly. An empty answer for an empty question. “It’s time.”  

 

He stepped farther into the room and slung a backpack over his shoulder. Brendon put on his shoes, wordlessly taking Ryan’s guitar for him. 

 

Ryan creeped to their door and peeked out. He waved Brendon over, stepping out into the hall. 

 

Ryan shut the door behind Brendon, guiding him down the hall, quietly past Dallon’s room and to the front door. The nurses desk was at the other end of the hall so they didn't need to worry too much. 

 

They exited quietly, Ryan making sure the door didn't slam behind them. 

 

“Try to keep up.” Ryan whispered, taking his guitar back. 

 

Ryan sprinted across the lawn into the thick woods that bordered the plot of land, Brendon right on his heels. 

 

“These woods go for miles.” Ryan commented once they got a little deeper. 

 

“Wow.” Brendon replied dumbly. 

 

They walked silently for a while. More than 15 minutes if Brendon had to guess. 

 

“What?” Ryan asked out of the blue, looking over his shoulder. 

 

“What?” Brendon asked. 

 

“What did you say?” 

 

Brendon’s brows came together. “I didn't say anything.” 

 

Ryan hesitated. “Oh.” 

 

“Do you only hear the one voice?” Brendon asked after a beat. 

 

“My dad’s? Usually.” Ryan replied, making Brendon stop. 

 

“Your dad’s the voice?” Brendon asked. 

 

Ryan stopped too, turning to face him but not meeting his eyes. “Yeah, you didn't know that?” 

 

Brendon shook his head. Ryan just shrugged and kept walking. 

 

They must have been walking for half an hour before Brendon started hearing the fire crack. After walking a little more, he could see and smell it too. 

 

“Here we are.” Ryan said, pushing into a small clearing. 

 

Spencer and Jon Walker The Bass Player sat on logs around a small fire pit. 

 

“Took you two long enough.” Jon said, acoustic bass on his lap. 

 

“You start without us?” Ryan asked, sitting with Brendon on an adjacent log. 

 

“Of course not,” Jon said with mock offense. “What kind of host would I be if I distributed drugs without the whole squad?” He smiled. 

 

“We’re gonna wait like, five more minutes for Weekes. Fuck him, if he doesn't show.” Spencer said. 

 

“Fucker probably fell back asleep.” Jon snorted. 

 

Ryan put his bag down, tuning his guitar quickly by ear. “Can you play me a D real quick?” 

 

Jon obliged. 

 

“They won't hear us out here?” Brendon asked. 

 

“No.” Spencer scoffed. 

 

“Here,” Jon began, sticking a joint between his teeth and lighting it. He took a hit and passed it to Brendon. “Fuck Dallon. It’s his own fault he’s late.” 

 

Brendon had smoked weed before, of course. Who hadn’t. But it wasn’t something Brendon did often. He couldn’t really afford it on top of his nicotine addiction. He exhaled his second hit, holding it out for Ryan who just opened his mouth, hands busy plucking something Brendon could almost recognize. 

 

Brendon held the joint for him, passing it when he was done. 

 

Spencer pulled a pack of cigarettes out of Jon’s flannel pocket, taking one and passing the rest to Ryan.

 

“The poor man’s lighter.” Ryan drawled, sticking a branch in the fire. He lit a cigarette and passed the pack down to Brendon, holding out the stick too. 

 

Brendon took it, graciously taking a hit. He was too exhausted to go out and smoke after purging. Thank God for Jon Walker.

 

“And this is yours.” Jon said, handing Spencer a small baggie of white powder. “You haven't finished paying for that either.” he added with a wink. 

 

Spencer put the coke in his pocket, rolling his eyes fondly at Jon. 

 

“So what do you wanna play?” Ryan asked. 

 

“Well,” Jon began, hunching over his bass. “You were talking about ‘Round Here’. You know that song, Brendon?” 

 

Brendon nodded. “‘Course.” 

 

“Good, because without Dallon here, you’re our voice.” 

 

Ryan began picking the riff, stopping to hiss as cigarette ash landed on his knee. He brushed it off and continued, sticking it between his teeth instead. 

 

Brendon began. “ _Step out the front door like a ghost, Into the fog where no one notices, The contrast of white on white._ ” He continued. “ _And in between the moon and you, The angels get a better view, Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right._ _I walk in the air between the rain, Through myself and back again, Where? I don't know. Maria says she's dying, Through the door I hear her crying. Why? I don't know._ ” 

 

Ryan had a small smile on his face, cigarette wobbling between his lips. Brendon wasn't sure it was the weed that was making him feel like jelly. The joint got passed back to Brendon as Spencer entered, banging thick sticks against rocks as makeshift drums. Jon joined too as Brendon started the chorus.

 

“ _ Round here, we always stand up straight. Round here, something radiates. _ ” 

 

Dallon entered the clearing with Ian. They took a seat next to Brendon, Dallon plucking the joint from his hands. 

 

“ _ Maria came from Nashville with a suitcase in her hand, She said she'd like to meet a boy who looks like El- _ ” 

 

“ _ Dallon _ ,” Dallon sang, coming in with harmony. 

 

Spencer threw one of his “drums sticks” at him, quickly grabbing another one. Dallon caught it, flipping him off before tossing it in the fire.

 

“ _ She walks along the edge of where the ocean meets the land, Just like she's walking on a wire in the circus. _ ” 

 

Ryan nodded at Brendon quickly, eyes flicking down to his cigarette. Brendon got the hint, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.

 

“ _She parks her car outside of my house, Takes her clothes off, Says she's close to understanding Jesus._ _She knows she's just a little misunderstood. She has trouble acting normal when she's nervous.”_

 

Dallon held the joint out to Ian. He hesitated before whispering something to Dallon. Dallon rolled his eyes taking a hit and pulling Ian close, blowing the smoke into his mouth. Ian inhaled, cheeks pink, even though Dallon was careful not to let their lips touch. Brendon went into the next chorus. “ _ Round here, we're carving out our names. Round here, we all look the same. Round here, we talk just like lions. _ ” 

 

Dallon joined in with harmony again, smirk glued to his face. “ _ But we sacrifice like lambs, Round here she's slipping through my hands. Sleeping children better run like the wind, Out of the lightning dream. Mama's little baby better get herself in, Out of the lightning. _ ” 

 

Brendon could feel his throat constricting at what he knew was coming next. “ _ ‘She says "it's only in my head.’  She says ‘Shhh I know it's only in my head’. She said ‘did you think that you were dreaming?’ I said ‘no’. ‘Did you think that you were dreaming?’ I said ‘no’. ‘Did you think that you were dreaming?’ I said ‘sometimes I don't know’. _ ”

 

He risked a glance at Ryan who was staring into the fire, eyes glazed and shining, smile no longer present.

 

Brendon took another hit of the joint as Ryan played his small solo. 

 

“ _ There's a girl on the car out in the parking lot, _ ” he began, the whole mood shifted. “ _ And she says ‘come on, hey man, come on just take a shot. Can't you see me? Can't you see me? Can't you see my walls are tumbling down? Can't you see my walls are crumbling down? Can't you see my sun stopped spinning around? Can't you see the sky turn black and brown? Can't you see the moon is flashing round? Can't you see me? Can't you see me? Can't you see me?’ No! _ ” 

 

Brendon forced himself to hold back tears. “ _ There's a girl on the car out in the parking lot. ‘Can't you see my walls are crumbling?’ Then she looks up at the building, Says she's thinking of jumping, She says she's tired of life, She must be tired of something, Round here, _ ” he belted. “ _ She's always on my mind. Round here, hey man, we’ve got lots of time. Round here, we're never sent to bed early, and nobody makes us wait. Round here, we stay up very, very, very, very late. I can't see nothing- _ ” Brendon cursed under his breath as his voice cracked. 

 

Dallon squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, but he refused to let the tears fall. “ _ -nothing round here. So will you catch if I'm falling? Will you catch me if I'm falling? Will you catch me cause I'm falling down on you, _ ” he inhaled sharply, pulling himself back together as the tempo slowed again. “ _ I said I'm under the gun round here. Man I said I'm under the gun round here, And I can't see nothing- Nothing round here. _ ”

 

“Shit.” Jon said as the note rang out. 

 

Ryan put his guitar down, eyes flickering to where Dallon’s hand was still resting on Brendon’s shoulder. He took his half smoked cigarette back from between Brendon’s fingers, taking a long pull. 

 

“Nice of you two to join us.” Spencer said, breaking the settling silence. 

 

A second joint got added to the mix, Brendon noticed as it was passed to him. He took a hit and passed it along. He could really feel it now. He felt warm and heavy, looking down at the hand on his shoulder, confused to see it wasn't connected to Ryan. 

 

“Sorry.” Dallon smiled, lifting his hand. 

 

“‘s alright.” Brendon replied. 

 

Ryan started strumming something else. 

 

“What is that? I know that.” Jon said, watching Ryan’s fingers and learning the chords. 

 

“Karma Police.” Ryan said. 

 

They played through Karma Police and a few classics that Brendon couldn't remember the names of before it was time to make their way back. 

 

Jon Walker The Bass Player and Spencer stayed back, presumably to share the baggy of coke. Or maybe Spencer was getting around to paying for the other half. Either way, Ian, Dallon, Brendon, and Ryan stomped through the woods. 

 

Brendon was paranoid, every snap of a twig making him turn. Ryan silently took Brendon’s hand, making his stomach flip. 

 

The walk back seemed shorter, however. When they got back to Clover Fields, they raced across the lawn, stopping as Ryan checked for nurses. 

 

“Good to go.” Ryan whispered, holding the door open. 

 

Ian led them in, a few paces ahead of the group. A pair of rapidly approaching footsteps made the rest of them stop short. 

 

“Shit.” Dallon cursed. 

 

“In there.” Ryan said, pointing to a broom closet. Ian kept going and slipped into his room, watching them file into the closet through his cracked door. 

 

Dallon pushed in first, then Brendon, and lastly Ryan and his guitar, but it was literally a broom closet. It was super narrow and even with Dallon pressed against the back wall, they barely fit.

 

Brendon was completely sandwiched between Dallon and Ryan. There wasn't even a little bit of wiggle room. Brendon shifted, but only pressed further into Dallon. A hand flew to his hip, holding him still. 

 

“Stop moving your hips or so help me God.” Dallon growled into his ear. 

 

Brendon froze but Dallon didn't move his hand, fingers digging into Brendon's skin. 

 

Ryan leaned forward to put an ear to the door, but he caused a really shitty chain reaction instead. 

 

Ryan's ass pressed into Brendon's front, and then Brendon into Dallon and Jesus  _ Christ _ . 

 

Brendon bit his lip hard, holding his breath. This was fucked up. Brendon shouldn’t be as turned on as he was. It wasn't fair. 

 

Brendon would be lying if he said he didn't miss how rough Dallon was with him. Ryan lit his skin on fire, but Dallon was  _ dirty _ . 

 

He could feel Dallon, half hard,  pressing into the back of his thigh. Therefore, Ryan must have been able to feel how hard  _ he _ was getting. There was no way getting out of this alive, so he did the only thing his high ass could think of. 

 

Brendon slipped an arm around Ryan's waist, hand resting on his lower stomach, and rolled his hips. 

 

“Jesus.” Ryan whispered, looking over his shoulder. 

 

Brendon swallowed hard under Ryan's gaze. 

 

“She's still out there.” He whispered, setting his guitar down so it rested on the door. 

 

“So what?” Dallon challenged. 

 

Brendon's grip on Ryan's shirt tightened impatiently. 

 

Ryan spun around, pushing Brendon back, effectively pinning Dallon to the wall with a soft “ _ oof” _ . Ryan crashed his lips into Brendon’s, gripping his shoulder. 

 

“Guys, can't breathe.” Dallon panted as quietly as he could. “Seriously. Not into breath play.”

 

Brendon ignored him, slipping his hands under Ryan’s shirt and just  _ feeling _ . His skin was so soft and warm under his cold fingers. More than anything, he was relieved that Ryan was letting him touch him again, after the cold spell. 

 

Brendon felt Dallon stand up straighter. Dallon grabbed Ryan by the hair, pulling his head back so it was touching his spine. A soft, strangled sound escaped Ryan’s mouth. 

 

“Slut likes his hair pulled.” Dallon mumbled to no one in particular. 

 

Brendon took advantage of the newly exposed skin, licking up the column of Ryan’s neck, peppering kisses along his jaw and biting his way back down again, sucking dark marks into Ryan’s skin.

 

The hand that Dallon had on Brendon’s hip ventured lower, palming Brendon through his joggers, the back of his hand rubbing against Ryan’s length. 

 

Brendon choked on the moan that tried to leave his mouth. 

 

“Take these off,” Dallon whispered hotly against Brendon’s ears, pulling on his pants. “His too.” 

 

Brendon pulled his sweatpants down, taking Ryan’s down with him. 

 

Dallon wrapped one hand around the both of them. Brendon couldn’t help the whimper that left his mouth as his cock slid against Ryan's. 

 

Brendon pushed Dallon’s other hand out of Ryan's hair, replacing his fingers with his own, pulling Ryan by the hair into another kiss. Ryan was melting under his touch, so soft and pliant and Jesus, Dallon was right about the hair thing, holy shit. 

 

Dallon took Brendon in one hand and Ryan in the other, pumping in sync. Brendon pushed back into Dallon, grinding against his crotch. He pulled harder on Ryan’s curls, earning a small mew  from the boy. Dallon’s hand swiftly stroked their lengths, fingers expertly squeezing on the upstroke. 

 

Brendon wasn't sure how much time had past. On one hand, it felt like they'd only been in there for minutes, but on the other hand… 

 

When did Dallon and Ryan start kissing? Whose hair was his hand in? It felt a little too straight to be Ryan's, but it was dark and he really had no way of telling. 

 

Dallon broke the kiss to bite at the healing bruise on Brendon’s neck, irritating it again. Brendon groaned, Ryan and Dallon breathing in unison in his ears. It was so fucking hot, Brendon came into Dallon’s fist, across Ryan’s lower stomach. 

 

“On your knees.” Dallon whispered, spinning him around. 

 

Ryan must have spread his legs to compensate for Brendon's because he had no trouble dropping to the ground. 

 

He took Dallon into his mouth, bobbing down eagerly, but a hand on his jaw stopped him. Dallon held him still again, fucking his mouth. He built a steady pace, one hand going back to Ryan’s cock, their lips meeting. 

 

Brendon took it, breathing through his nose as he watched the two men kiss above him. He fucking took it until Dallon was spilling down his throat with a low grunt. 

 

Brendon shifted around, taking Ryan down deep. He came almost immediately. Brendon swallowed, licking his lips after. 

 

Once their breathing began to slow down again, Ryan spoke. “We gotta get the fuck out of here.” He whispered. 

 

Brendon stood up, dressing himself again while Dallon pulled his pants back on. 

 

Ryan pulled his pants up, pushing out the door carefully, looking both ways before grabbing his guitar. 

 

Ryan and Brendon sprinted back to their room as quietly as they could, Dallon disappearing through his own door. 

 

Brendon slumped against the door after he shut it. “What the  _ fuck _ just happened?” He asked.

 

Ryan slid his guitar under his bed. “First rule of fucking Dallon: don't talk about fucking Dallon.”

 

Brendon didn't respond and Ryan continued. 

 

“Y’know, because everyone has done  _ something _ with Dallon, and we all know it, but…” he trailed off. 

 

“That's not what I meant.” Brendon said. “I meant what the fuck is happening with  _ you? _ ” 

 

He saw something flash across Ryan's features before he steeled himself again. “I don't know what you’re talking about.” 

 

“I’m talking about how you’re randomly pulling away from me, but then get off with me and Dallon in a fucking closet.” Brendon said, not even knowing where the anger was coming from. He took a breath, composing himself, then started again, softer. “I’m just worried about you. You’ve been… off since you got that phone call.” 

 

Ryan visibly cringed, tugging on his hair. “I would tell you, but if I tell you, then it's real.” 

 

“Ry,” Brendon sighed. 

 

Ryan opened and closed his mouth a few times, seeming to shake harder each time. “They want to open my case again. Take my dad back to court.” 

 

Brendon waited. Ryan struggled to inhale, breath stuttering. “They think he killed my mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so y'know, casual polyamory. 
> 
> At this point, I've finished writing the fic. Well sort of. Here's the thing. I could make this fic go on forever. There are enough characters that I could like, never run out of content. Brendon could stay at Clover Fields for years since it's a long term facility. However, with my attention span, I'd rather end it early than abandon it, you know? 
> 
> My question is, should I leave it open ended and maybe pick it up sometime later? Or tie up all the loose ends in an epilogue? Let me know.
> 
> jon-walker-the-bass-player.tumblr.com


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay this is a wild one. It's also the Last One before the epilogue.

Ryan was right in saying that once he spoke up, it would be real. He was bombarded the next morning with phone calls from lawyers and his father. 

 

Those were the worst; the phone calls from his father. Ryan could have a bit of trouble differentiating between which voice was  _ the  _ voice and which voice was his actual father’s. He managed to push through though, using most of his mental power doing so. By noon, he was fucking exhausted.  

 

Frank and Gerard still hadn't returned from the infirmary, so Brendon sat with Dallon and Ian. He ate a plate of fruit, knowing that he needed something easy to get up in preperation from his sister’s lunch visit. He was dreading it already. She was likely to bring something like chinese food or pizza. 

 

Brendon almost completely forgot about what happened in the closet last night, until he sat down in front of Dallon. 

 

Dallon looked at him wide-eyed, stopping mid sentence. 

 

Brendon ate a couple pieces of fruit, chewing thoroughly. “What?” he asked. 

 

“Last night was way too close.” Ian whispered, leaning across the table. “You guys were gone awhile, were you okay?” 

 

Brendon had to stifle a laugh at the way Dallon’s face paled. “Yeah, we just hid out in that closet for a little bit.” 

 

“Oh.” Ian laughed. “Dallon looked like he saw a ghost when he got back, thought you got screamed at.” 

 

Dallon deflated, joining Ian in laughter. Brendon beamed at them. He had a good feeling about Dallon and Ian, that’d they work it out and be okay. It made Brendon feel a smidge better. 

 

But then he remembered that Dallon came down his throat not even 6 hours ago. So that would complicate things.

 

“You have Dr. Uma right?” Brendon asked Ian. “She was asking about you this morning, you should probably go talk to her real quick.” 

 

“Oh.” Ian said. “Yeah, okay.” 

 

Ian left his tray and got up, exiting the cafeteria. Dallon sat in confusion, blinking at Brendon. 

 

“I assume you wanted to talk about it.” Brendon shrugged. 

 

Brendon could see Dallon sliding back into his confidence, like it was a place to hide. Dallon shrugged. “I mean, I told you not to mention the hickie stuff to Ian and-” 

 

“Exactly.” Brendons said, cutting him off. “I thought you liked Ian, what the fuck happened last night?” 

 

“He’s asexual.” Dallon said like it answered all Brendon’s questions. It answered a good amount of them, but Brendon wasn't satisfied. 

 

“Do you like him or not?” Brendon asked again. 

 

Dallon’s energy faltered. Brendon could feel his building panic. “Yes.” Dallon said after a moment. 

 

“I know he’s asexual but it’s still not fair to him.” 

 

Dallon blushed shamefully. “You know who I am, Brendon.  _ What _ I am.” 

 

“Talk to him.” Brendon said. 

 

Dallon opened his mouth, shutting it again when Brendon glared at him. “It seems like he cares about you, Dal. He’s making an effort. It’s gonna be okay.” 

Dallon sighed. “It’s just-” 

 

Brendon caught sight of Ian returning, frown on his face. 

 

“That’s my cue.” Brendon said, standing up. 

 

~*~

 

Brendon was simultaneously glad and worried when he found that Ryan wasn't back at the room yet. He swallowed something that felt like guilt and went to the bathroom, locking the door. 

 

As he spilled the contents of his stomach into the toilet, Brendon really hoped the red he saw was just from the strawberries.  His throat had been a mess between the purging and cigarettes. 

 

Brendon drank a couple handfuls of cool water from the tap, too lazy to brush his teeth. He shuffled out of the bathroom. 

 

“Hey.” Ryan said, making Brendon jump. “Sorry.” 

 

“It’s okay.” Brendon said, anxiety rising. Ryan couldn't have heard him throwing up, right? 

 

Ryan smiled at him weakly, pulling Brendon in for a kiss. His tongue traced the seam of Brendon’s mouth, making him melt. 

 

“You doing okay?” Brendon asked, pulling away. He licked his lips, paranoid that he tasted like vomit. 

 

Ryan frowned a little. “Just exhausted. I’m gonna nap I think.” 

 

“Oh, okay.” Brendon said. “I wanted to talk to you about a couple things but I can wait until later if you want.” 

 

Ryan’s brows came together. “No, go ahead.” 

 

“Well we never-” Brendon paused, his anxiety rising. “I don’t know- We’ve just never talked about boundaries or exclusivity or… whatever.” 

 

_ Or whatever we are. _

 

The words were left unsaid but that didn't mean that Brendon didn't hear them anyways. They were having this conversation right now, then. 

 

“How exclusive do you wanna be?” Ryan asked quietly, tugging on his hair. 

  
  


Brendon hadn’t tried to analyze his feelings for Ryan or what they meant. Being around Ryan made him feel good, and happy, and nervous and he didn't question it. But he liked Dallon, too. In a different way. 

 

“I don't-” Brendon began, cheeks rosy. “I don't want you to do anything with Dallon unless I’m there.” he admitted. 

 

Ryan deflated a little. “Okay good, I’m on the same page with you about that.” 

 

“Good.” Brendon replied. 

 

“Is there anyone else that you might wanna…” Ryan trailed off. 

 

Brendon tried to supress the smile on his face. There was something incredibly charming about Ryan when he was shy. 

 

“No.” Brendon replied. “What about you?” 

 

“No one.” Ryan agreed.  

 

They fell into a bit of an awkward silence, the question from before still hanging in the air. 

 

_ What are we? _

 

“I like you a lot,” Brendon began suddenly. He might as well be upfront about it. “More than I’ve liked anyone before. And I’ve never really done anything like this, and I’m really afraid I’m gonna fuck it up.” 

 

There it was, all his cards on the table. 

 

“Oh,” Ryan grinned bashfully, looking at his hands in his lap. 

 

Brendon couldn't help it, he moved some of the hair out of Ryan’s face, getting his attention so he could plant a feather-light kiss to his lips. Ryan kissed him harder, their teeth clicking together as they smiled. 

 

“We can go as slow as you want.” Ryan whispered, pulling back just far enough to look Brendon in the eyes. 

 

“I think ‘slow’ went out the window when you pinned me against Dallon.” Brendon laughed. 

 

“You know what I mean, you shit.” Ryan grinned. 

 

“Yeah,” Brendon replied. 

 

“Was there anything else, or can I retire to my pillow cave now?” 

 

Brendon smiled at him, beaming. “I just want you to meet my sister when she gets here for lunch. If you want, I mean.” 

 

Ryan smiled back at him, eyes sparkling. “I’d love to.” 

 

~*~

 

Brendon was called out the the lunch room when Audrey arrived. He pulled Ryan anxiously behind him. Audrey was leaning on the front desk, talking enthusiastically with one of the nurses. 

 

“Audrey!” Brendon called. 

 

Audrey spun around at the sound of his voice, but her bright smile fell as her eyes landed on Brendon. 

 

She looked him up and down, tears filling her eyes. “You were supposed to be getting better, B.” she said, voice weak and strangely airy. It made Brendon swallow hard. She had never looked that way at him before. 

 

“Audrey, I’m fine, I don't…” Brendon trailed off. He couldn't look her in the eyes and lie to her like that, so he didn't, gluing his eyes to the floor. “I don't need to get better, I’m fine.”  

 

“They were supposed to help you.” Audrey whispered. 

 

“Can we… not do this?” Brendon asked, cheeks hot. He couldn't meet his sister's eyes. 

 

Brendon had no idea what was causing the horror in her eyes. Brendon wasn’t  _ that _ skinny, certainly not skinny enough to warrant such a reaction. He subtly wrapped a hand around his wrist. He had to measure around his hoodie so she wouldn't see. 

 

Even with the thick fabric, Brendon’s thumb was touching the second knuckle of his middle finger. 

 

Brendon saw his sister stand up straighter out of the corner of his eye. “Who’s your friend?” she asked quietly. 

 

“Oh.” Brendon said, turning around. Ryan was standing almost against him, shifting anxiously. 

 

“This is my uh- Ryan.” 

 

“I think the term you’re looking for is boyfriend?” Ryan supplied with a stifled giggle. 

 

Brendon’s heart skipped. “Boyfriend, yeah.” he smiled shyly. 

 

“Great to meet you, Ryan.” Audrey said, taking Ryan’s hand. 

 

“You too, I’ve heard good things.” Ryan smiled charmingly. Brendon would’ve rolled his eyes if he weren't drooling at how well his sister and  _ boyfriend  _ seemed to be getting along. 

 

“And I about you.” She replied, making Ryan blush. She shot Brendon a wink. 

 

“Well, I should probably, y’know.” Ryan said, jerking a thumb toward the cafe. 

 

“Okay, well, nice meeting you!” Audrey exclaimed. 

 

“You too!” Ryan said, taking his exit. 

 

“I brought your guitar and stuff.” Audrey said. She wasn't smiling anymore but she wasn't drowning Brendon with pity either. “Staff took it to go through, they said they’d bring it back to your room.” 

 

“Okay, thank you so much.” Brendon said. 

 

Audrey sighed. “C’mere.” 

 

Brendon sunk into his sister’s arms, holding her tight. “You’re a weak hugger.” Brendon teased, Audrey’s arms hanging loosely around his shoulders. 

 

“I’ll break you.” She said seriously. 

 

Brendon tensed, pulling away. 

 

“Can we go somewhere? I brought watermelon.” 

 

“Yeah.” Brendon sighed. “Yeah.”

 

~*~

 

The staff let Brendon sit outside at one of the picnic tables, since Audrey would be with him. He was right, she brought pizza. Half cheese and half veggie. 

 

Audrey watched him take two pieces onto his plate, compete with watermelon on the side. 

 

“Stop staring at me.” Brendon mumbled, taking a bite of the pizza. It was good, the kind from the little place down the street, but Brendon didn't say anything. He didn't want to sound like a fat ass or something. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Audrey said, looking down at her own plate.  “I just- you look like- I don’t know how you can live like this.” 

 

Brendon’s eyes snapped up angrily. “Like what?” he asked, forcing his voice to stay even. 

 

“So deep in denial.” Audrey said, no holding back. That was  _ The Urie Way _ after all. “Like, are you just trying to bullshit the people around you, or can you really not see what you’re doing to yourself?” 

 

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Audrey. There’s nothing wrong!” Brendon insisted. 

 

“Yeah? Why are you here, then?” Audrey countered. 

 

“For anxiety.” 

 

“Bullshit. Mom said you almost passed out. I’ve seen you eat, what, maybe 4 meals in the past year? You lost 50 pounds in 3 months Brendon, you’re fucking killing yourself!” She exclaimed. 

 

Brendon sucked in a breath. “I’m not gonna die.” 

 

“Stop lying to me, Brendon. It’s insulting.” 

 

“Look,” Brendon began, trying to level. “I’ve got it under control, okay?” 

 

“If you won't do it for yourself, and you won't do it for me, and you won't do it for mom, fucking do it for Ryan.” 

 

Brendon’s jaw clenched. Fuck.  _ Fuck.  _ He rolled his eyes, trying to blink the tears away. “I don't want to stop.” he whispered. 

 

“You need to find something to live for, B. No matter how small, you gotta have something.” 

 

“Do you have a something?” Brendon asked. 

 

“Yeah.” Audrey smiled, like she was remembering. “God mostly. Ashley too.” 

 

Ashley was Audrey’s best friend of 10 years. Even through moving schools, they were always attached at the hip. Brendon had a suspicion that Audrey liked her more than she let on. 

 

“Cigarettes too, oh god.” Audrey added with a laugh. Brendon joined in, popping a piece of watermelon into his mouth. 

 

“You can say that again.” Brendon laughed. 

 

“So…” Audrey drawled. “Tell me about him!” 

 

“Who, Ryan?” Brendon asked, cheeks suddenly feeling hot again. “I don't know, what do you want to know?” 

 

“When did you get a boyfriend, Brendon, Jesus!” She gushed. 

 

“Didn't know he was my boyfriend until about ten minutes ago.” Brendon confessed, grinning at the memory. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy. 

 

“Look at you, all grown up!” Audrey gushed. “Little B’s got a boyfriend.” 

 

Brendon blushed scarlet, scowling at her. “Yeah? When are you gonna buck up and ask Ashley out, hmm?” he asked. 

 

Audrey’s face turned a similar color to his. It really brought out the resemblance between the two of them, Brendon thought. 

 

“Ask her out?” Aubrey asked. “Why the hell would I ask her out?” 

 

“Oh, I don't know.” Brendon smirked. “Maybe because you’ve been in love with her with the better part of a decade?” 

 

Audrey blushed again. “I am not.” 

 

“And you say  _ I’m  _ in denial?” Brendon laughed. 

 

“Shut up!” Audrey exclaimed, pulling out a cigarette and hiding behind it. She offered one to Brendon who gladly accepted. 

 

“How about this.” Audrey began, exhaling smoke. “I’ll ask her out when you get better.” 

 

Brendon tensed, thinking over his options. Eventually, he just sighed, “I’ll think about it.” 

 

~*~

Brendon had a good time with his sister, even with the slightly judgemental glances. His guitar and equipment were back in his room when he went back to purge, but Ryan was there too. 

Ryan stood in the middle of the room, one hand threaded through his hair. He was staring blankly at the wall, eyes quickly tracing over Brendon as he entered. He then glued them back to the wall. 

 

Brendon felt dread fill his stomach. “Hey, you okay?” 

 

Ryan seemed to flinch at his voice, breaking Brendon’s heart. “I- no.” 

 

Brendon waited, but Ryan stayed frozen in place. 

 

“What happened? Was it something with your case?” 

 

“It was nice to meet your sister.” Ryan said, stalling. 

 

“It’s nice to have a boyfriend.” Brendon smiled bashfully. “Never had one of those before.” 

 

Ryan’s lip twitched, but his face stayed stony overall. “She was right.” He said quietly. 

 

“About?” Brendon asked anxiously. 

 

Ryan shrugged like he didn't know how to say it. He probably didn't. “Come on, Ryan. Spit it out.” 

 

“You tasted like vomit when I kissed you this morning.” Ryan said, and  _ oh.  _ Shit. 

 

Brendon felt himself go cold all over, heart thumping in his chest. He laughed nervously. “I’ve got some pretty awful breath in the mor-” 

 

“Don't.” Ryan said, cutting him off. Brendon shut his mouth shamefully. 

 

Ryan finally met his eyes, and Brendon almost wished he hadn't. They were teary and it was Brendon’s fault. “I don't know what you want me to say.” Brendon said, crossing his arms defensively. 

 

“I don't want you to  _ say  _ anything, Brendon. I want you to get better!” Ryan exclaimed, tears falling. 

 

Brendon made a noise of disgust, his brows coming together. “Nothing I ever do is fucking good enough!” Brendon yelled, making Ryan flinch. “Not for you, not for my fucking sister, not anyone! I just want to do one thing right, for once in my fucking life, Ryan. And I’m so close to my goal, you have no idea.” 

 

Ryan had a hand over his mouth, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

 

“I can do this, Ry. I  _ can _ .” Brendon insisted. He wrapped a hand around his bicep. He could almost close his hand completely around it. “I’ll finally be what you deserve.” 

 

“This is about  _ me?” _ Ryan asked, horrified. 

 

Brendon hadn't really thought about it that way. He just saw Ryan as this golden god who deserved the fucking world and Brendon was determined to give it to him. He didn't know how to respond. 

 

“You can't just say that and not elaborate, Brendon.” Ryan exclaimed. 

 

“This is exactly what I’m talking about.” Brendon replied. “I’m a fucking disaster, I destroy everything I touch and soon enough I’ll fuck this up too.” he said, gesturing between them. 

 

“Then maybe we shouldn't do this at all.” Ryan said. 

 

“What?” Brendon gasped, tears coming to his eyes. He was going to have a panic attack, he could feel it. This was everything he ever feared, coming true all at once. “Fuck.” he muttered. 

 

“No, Brendon, if I’m the one-” 

 

Brendon shook his head. He couldn't do this. He needed to get the fuck away. He spun around, stepping out into the hallway. 

 

“Brendon! Wait-” 

 

Before Brendon could really think about it, he was running out the front door, down the path that lead to the little parking area. He was aware of Ryan screaming behind him, but he kept running, until suddenly everything went black, and suddenly, he wasn't running anymore.

 

~*~   
  


Brendon remembered the first time he really wanted to die. Like, go out to the store, buy razors, write a note kind of die. 

 

His mother thought it was because his dad left. 

Yeah, when his father left he was upset of course. He was Brendon’s best friend. But it was his mother that pushed him over the edge truly. 

 

He tried to be better, for her, once his father left. Brendon stopped smoking, got his grades up and had a steady girlfriend, had a  _ job _ . Setting the expectation was the easy part, maintaining it was what was difficult. He had no time to eat with all the extra curricular work, he wasn't sleeping because of his job, and he couldn't hold up his relationship with Sarah on top of it. 

 

But the lack of sleep started interfering with school, which started interfering with work, until everything that Brendon had built was falling down. 

 

He couldn't deal with his mother’s words. “I expected more from you.”, “Is that the best you could do?”, “You should be more like your brothers.” The constant pressure to be better, not disgrace the family like his father did. 

 

He stopped going to church, started smoking again, sleeping with guys behind Sarah’s back. Everything he did disgusted himself, but he couldn't stop. It was like a snowball rolling down a hill. It kept escalating until the rumors started. 

 

Someone at school swore they saw Brendon Urie on his knees behind the bleachers, blowing the captain of the football team. The ironic part was that that didn't even happen, but it got around anyways. Sarah heard about it and dumped him, threw a fit when he just shrugged and didn't react. 

 

He assumed his mother heard about it, considering the way she acted towards him afterwards. She would compare him to his father, started talking about Brendon in the same disgusted voice she used for her ex-husband. 

 

He had no one. Not his mother or father, Sarah was gone, he had no friends, so what was the point? 

 

The note he left simply said “fuck you all”. 

 

And when he was bleeding out onto the floor, it was most peaceful Brendon had ever felt in his life. 

 

After the hospital, after he convinced everyone he was okay, was when he started not eating. Brendon loved the feeling of being hungry. His stomach would get used to barely any food, and eventually stop asking for it. That’s when Brendon would binge and purge to reset it. 

 

Every pound lost reminded Brendon that he was finally doing something right. He was making progress, he wasn't fucking failing for once. And it felt incredible. The rush of vertigo he got from a cigarette on an empty stomach, the way his hand could wrap completely around his wrist; it was intoxicating. 

  
  


However, even through all that, Brendon had never wanted to die more than he did when he woke up. He felt… he couldn't even describe it. 

 

He knew he was in the infirmary because he could hear Gerard and Frank talking quietly behind the curtain to his right. 

 

He itched his face, nails catching on a piece of tape. Brendon’s brows came together as he traced over the tube that was taped to his face. One end went into his nose, the other went down. Down where, Brendon didn't know. 

 

Ryan was asleep in a chair in the corner, his head bent down to his chest. 

 

Brendon followed the tube down, until his fingers found his side. His heart rate picked up. He’d been tubed. He was fucking tubed. 

 

_ That’s  _ what the feeling was, Brendon thought. It was the feeling of being pumped full of 1500 calories of whatever the fuck the cream colored liquid was. Everything he had worked for, gone in a matter of hours. It brought tears to his eyes that he didn't bother to wipe away. 

 

Brendon grabbed the part of the tube that went into his nose and pulled. Hard. Brendon jerked forward in pain, letting out a yelp. 

 

Ryan woke up, instantly at his side. “Brendon what are you doing?” 

 

“I can't do this anymore.” Brendon said, yanking at the tube again, cringing. None of this even felt real. 

 

“Brendon.” Ryan said, grabbing his arms. 

 

Brendon tried to push him away, shoving at his ribs and face. “I wanna die.” He cried hysterically. “I wanna die, please just let me fucking die and be done with it already!” Brendon screamed. 

 

“Janis!” Ryan yelled, trying to get Brendon’s hands away from his stomach. 

 

Brendon shoved Ryan hard again, he felt a sickening pop and fluid flowing down his stomach. Finally. 

 

Everything was moving so quickly, the lights were on, nurses were running in, escorting Ryan out. Ryan was yelling, trying to get back to Brendon, but he couldn't hear him. 

 

“No!” Brendon screamed at an approaching nurse. 

 

“Sedate him.” Janis said. 

 

“No!” Brendon exclaimed again. “Please.  _ Please  _ just let me fucking die.” He sobbed, too tired to keep fighting. 

 

Brendon felt a needle plunge into his thigh, his vision going blurry almost immediately. 

 

“Kill me.” Brendon begged, his tongue feeling like cotton. “Please kill me.” he slurred as his eyes slipped shut. “I’m begging you,  _ please _ , just let me die.” 

 

~*~

 

_ Everything was dark. That was the first thing Brendon noticed. The next thing he noticed was how quiet it was. His ears were ringing like they didn't even know what to do with the silence.  _

 

_ His vision crackled in and out of focus, like broken shards of glass, spinning and shifting until they finally fell into a picture.  _

 

_ It was his kitchen. He remembered that day. It was a few weeks after he got out of the hospital. He was sitting in his kitchen, across from his mother, inhaling a bowl of mac and cheese.  _

 

_ “Might want to slow down, Brendon, you’re starting to get a gut like your father.” His mother sneered.  _

 

_ It was like a punch to the stomach the first time he heard it, and now, the second time, it was even worse.  _

 

_ Anything that reminded his mother of his dad, he needed to get rid of. Brendon remembered a conversation he had with a girl in the hospital. She had bragged to Brendon how starving was the easiest way to lose weight. That's when it began.  _

 

_ The image shifted. Brendon was in Sarah’s bedroom now, the day she heard the rumor.  _

 

_ “Are you fucking kidding me, Brendon?” She screeched. “You cheated on me with Chad Fucking Daniels? You knew I used to date him, what the fuck is wrong with you? We’re over, you’re fucking disgusting.”  _

 

_ He watched himself shrug and turn around to leave Sarah’s over-decorated room.  _

 

_ “Don't you walk away from me Brendon Urie, I’m the best thing that ever fucking happened to you and you're not even putting up a fight?”  _

 

_ He didn't care then, he didn't care now. They were using each other as far as Brendon was concerned. She slept with him and he was her arm candy. It was kind of gross.  _

 

_ The image shifted again, like a spinning kaleidoscope.   _

 

_ He was in room 109, watching himself talk to Ryan. He looked so different, so frail. His hair was so dull, and his skin too.  _

 

_ “You’re beautiful.” Ryan mumbled, lips dangerously close to Brendon’s neck.  _

 

_ Brendon watched himself flinch, watched Ryan’s grip tighten around him.  _

 

_ “You are.” Ryan went on. “You are so, so beautiful.”  _

 

_ “Ryan-” Brendon watched himself say.  _

 

_ “No.” Ryan said. Brendon watched him pull his face out of Brendon’s neck, look him in the eye. “I can't see you how you see yourself, but to me? You’re so fucking beautiful.” He said, voice dropping to a whisper.  _

 

_ If this was what it was like to see your life pass before your eyes, Brendon was bored. He just wanted it to be over, to just get to death already, but then the images starting coming in flashes.  _

 

_ It was all Ryan. Ryan’s eyes and his laugh, and his smile. The way he tugs on his hair when he’s nervous, or smiles at his hands when Brendon makes him blush. The way he sings, plays guitar, does everything so passionately. The way he kisses, the way he touches Brendon, makes him moan.  _ Everything _.  _

 

_ And Brendon was hit again, with the gut wrenching realization that Ryan didn't want him anymore. And it was his own doing.  _

 

_ The ringing in his ears began to increase, buzzing like bees, in his ears, throat, eyes, until everything was gone again.  _

 

~*~

 

“-have to do this now? Our son’s sick, for God’s sake.” Brendon heard his father say. 

 

“I just don't see why you had to bring him.” His mother replied. “He’s not a part of this family he’s-” 

 

“Derek loves Brendon like he was his own son. Loves all the kids. He has always-” 

 

“It’s not the place, we-” 

 

“Dad?” Brendon asked, blinking his eyes open. 

 

“Brendon, oh my God.” His father exclaimed, rushing over to him. 

 

His mother hit the nurse call button. 

 

His father hugged him tightly. His smell alone brought Brendon back. He tried to hug him back but his arms stopped short, jerking back to where they were locked into place. 

 

“They had to strap you down so you wouldn't pull your tube out again.” His mother said, standing a few feet away, like she was afraid. 

 

“I’m gonna get Derek.” Brendon’s father said, stepping out of the room. 

 

Brendon tugged on his restraints again. He took a moment to look around. He wasn't in the infirmary anymore. He was in a legitimate hospital, obviously, Brendon thought. How else would his parents be there?

 

His father came back in, hand intertwined with Derek’s. Brendon remembered Derek. He was his dad’s best friend, his partner now too. 

 

Audrey came in too, rushing past the two men to pull Brendon into a hug. “I told you, you dumb idiot. I should kill you for scaring me like that.” she whispered. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Brendon mumbled. He could feel her tears on his cheeks. She nodded against him, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking one of his hands.

 

“How you feeling, Bren?” Derek asked, taking a seat with Brendon’s father by the end of the bed. “You had us worried sick.” 

 

“I’m fine.” Brendon said. “Sorry to worry you all.” 

 

“Don’t be sorry.” Brendon’s mother insisted. “We’re all just glad you’re okay.” 

 

Everyone nodded along, murmuring their agreements. 

 

Brendon wiggled his wrists again. A smudge of writing caught his attention. Just above one of the braces, on his wrist was “I’m sorry,” written in small letters. Underneath was a poorly drawn heart and where Ryan signed his name. 

 

Brendon’s heart rate spiked, made clear by the way his heart monitor’s beeping increased. Maybe Ryan didn't hate him after all. 

 

“Where’s Ryan?” Brendon asked, looking around. 

 

“Who?” His mother asked. 

 

“His roommate.” Audrey supplied. “He’s still back at Clover Fields.” she said, brushing a hand through Brendon’s hair. 

 

Brendon should’ve figured that Ryan wouldn't be able to come. Or maybe he didn't want to come. Either way, Brendon missed him. He needed to talk to him. 

 

“Can I uh,” His father began. “Have a moment with Brendon. Please?” 

 

His mother opened her mouth to object, but Audrey was quicker. “C’mon mom. Let’s go down to the caf, you’ve been up here a while.” she said, getting up and escorting their mother out, despite her protests. 

 

Derek followed a few steps behind them, shutting the door. 

 

“I’m so sorry, B.” His father started. “I’m sorry I couldn't be there for you.” 

 

Brendon tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He shouldn't even be able to  _ make  _ tears anymore. 

 

“It’s okay.” Brendon said quietly. 

 

His father shook his head. “I’ve never stopped loving you, Brendon, or your brothers and sisters. I miss you all every day. I don’t want you to think I could ever stop caring about you.” 

 

A tear slipped down Brendon’s cheek. 

 

“If she let me see you guys, I would’ve, Bren I promise.” 

 

“You wanted to see us?” Brendon asked. The way his mom told it, it seemed like his father wanted nothing to do with them. 

 

“Of course I did, but you know how your mother is. The second she found out I was gay, she was convinced that I’d corrupt you all, turn you into a bunch of gay sinners or something.” He laughed ruefully. 

 

That was one of Brendon’s favorite things about his father; how he managed to laugh even when everything was shit. 

 

“Well, 2 out of 5 is better than nothing, huh?” Brendon joked back, cheeks pink. 

 

“Oh yeah?” his father laughed. “Why am I not surprised?” 

 

Brendon laughed too, smiling brightly. He really missed his father. 

 

“Look, Kiddo.” His father began in his serious voice. “I don't know why you’re doing… this to yourself, but I’ve read a couple of books, and uh, if this has anything to do with me-” 

 

“Dad, no-” 

 

His father held up a hand to silence him. The gesture reminded Brendon of Dr. Uma. “You don't have to make up for the mistakes your mother thinks I’ve made, Brendon. It’s hard enough to be yourself in this world without the added pressure of worrying about me.” 

 

Brendon sniffled, too tired to bother hiding his feelings. “I just don't want to disappoint her.”

 

“I know you don't.” His father sighed. “Just do your best, son.” 

 

“Thanks Dad.” Brendon said. 

 

“Everything will work out, kiddo. It always does.” 

 

~*~

 

Brendon had to stay in the psychiatric ward for a couple of nights to ensure that he wouldn't try to rip his tube out again, or try to kill himself… again. 

 

His family left when he was moved to the ward, but Brendon didn't mind because the longer his parents were in the same room together, the more stressed out he got. The tension would just rise at a constant level until they started bickering. 

 

Brendon spent his time in the psychiatric unit sleeping, trying to push away every thought about how many calories he was intaking.  

 

When he was finally moved back at Clover Fields, Brendon didn't know what to feel. He was scared, that was for fucking sure. Ryan could’ve easily stopped being sorry, decided that he didn't need Brendon. Maybe he’d take one look at Brendon and be disgusted with how much weight he had already put back on in the four days he was gone. 

 

He pushed the thoughts away. 

 

Brendon’s tube was removed when he left the hospital, at least. He had some control back. 

 

Brendon hesitated outside of room 109. He felt like he should knock or something, so he did. He knocked twice, rocking back and forth on his heels. 

 

Ryan opened the door a few seconds later, making Brendon jump. Ryan gasped when he saw him, jerking forward, then stopping himself. 

 

“I got your note.” Brendon said, rubbing at his wrist. The ink had mostly faded now, there was just a smudge of black where the heart used to be. 

 

Ryan nodded. “I didn't mean what I said, about breaking up or whatever. I’m not selfless enough to give you up like that.” he admitted, cheeks pink. 

 

Brendon blinked at him a couple of times. “So you don't want to breakup?” 

 

Ryan shook his head. “Unless you need the space or-” 

 

“Even though I’m like...  _ this _ ?” Brendon asked vaguely, gesturing to his body.

 

Ryan’s eyes softened. “Get in here.” he said, holding a hand out. 

 

Brendon took it, and Ryan pulled him into the room, into his arms. “Especially like  _ this _ .” Ryan said into his neck. 

 

Brendon breathed him in, relaxing into his arms instantly. 

 

“Look how shiny your hair is.” Ryan drawled, running a hand through Brendon’s bangs. Brendon’s eyes fluttered shut, ignoring every part of him that told him that Ryan was lying, just complimenting him to make him feel better. 

 

Ryan trailed his fingers down the side of Brendon’s face, cupping his jaw. “You look  _ so _ good, baby. You’re glowing.” 

 

Brendon blushed, holding onto Ryan’s wrist. He met Ryan’s grin, melting at the way Ryan was absolutely beaming at him. The look in his eyes set Brendon on fire. However, Ryan had dark circles under his eyes, his skin pale.

 

Brendon frowned, kissing Ryan’s chapped lips softly. “What happened while I was gone?” Brendon asked. “Anything with your case?” 

 

Ryan jerked violently. Brendon’s grip on Ryan’s wrist and waist tightened. “Ryan?” 

 

Ryan’s eyes were clenched shut, one hand pulling roughly at his hair. Brendon carefully untangled Ryan’s fingers from his curls, kissing his forehead. 

 

Ryan’s misty eyes flew open, meeting Brendon’s. “I’m sorry,” he began in a choked voice. “It’s so much, not just him anymore. It was so loud without you.” 

 

“There are other voices now?” Brendon asked, stroking his cheek. 

 

“They were always there, kind of just like, background conversation. It was mainly just murmurs, nothing intelligent, but now there’s like three more that are always fucking yelling.” Ryan said, voice dropping to a growl. 

 

“Can I make them go away too?” Brendon asked. 

 

Ryan kissed him, wasting no time and licking into his mouth. Brendon sighed, pulling their bodies together. Ryan pulled away with a huff, but didn't back up.

 

“Two out of four shut up.” Ryan said. “One is currently telling me to get away from the door because  _ they’ll _ be able to hear me.” 

 

“Who’ll hear you?” Brendon asked. 

 

“Exactly.” Ryan said, quirking a brow bitterly. “The other one won't stop talking about how much he’d like to fucking _ravish_ you.” 

 

Brendon went bright red, lips parting. 

 

Ryan laughed at him, biting at his lip anxiously. “The meds help me rationalize when the voices are lying. I think this is one of the first times I’ve ever agreed with one, though.” 

 

Brendon swallowed hard. He was sure Ryan could hear his heart beating his chest. “What’s it saying?” 

 

“He’s a kinky fucker.” Ryan smirked, shaking his head. “Are you sure you want to know? I mean, the visual I have right now is  _ great _ , don't get me wrong, but it’s… a lot. And you need to know, it’s not something  _ I _ thought up, well I mean-” 

 

“Ryan.” Brendon laughed. Ryan shut his mouth, blushing. “No judgement from me.” 

 

Ryan licked his lips, gathering his courage. “He thinks you’d look really pretty in purple lace panties.” he blushed. “And thigh highs too, oh  _ god _ .” 

 

Ryan pressed his face into Brendon’s neck, hiding in embarrassment.

 

Brendon’s breath hitched at the thought. 

 

“I told you it was weird.” Ryan mumbled into his skin. 

 

“S’not weird.” Brendon half-sighed, imagining it himself. “It’s kinda hot.” 

 

Brendon could feel Ryan grin. “Really?” he asked, standing up to meet Brendon’s eyes again. 

 

“Yeah.” Brendon smiled. “When we get out of here, we can totally do that.” 

 

Ryan’s smile faltered at that. 

 

“What?” Brendon asked. 

 

“I mean…They’re not really in any rush to discharge me.” Ryan said. “Not like I can live with my...” He trailed off, cursing under his breath and twitching. 

 

“Oh.” Brendon said. He never really thought about it. “What about living on your own?” 

 

“I've got no money, no job. I’ve been here for four years, Brendon.” 

 

“Live with me.” Brendon said. 

 

“Brendon.” 

 

“I’m serious, Ryan.” 

 

“ _ Brendon _ .” Ryan said. “That’s not your decision to make.” 

 

“I don't want to go back to living with my mom anyways.” Brendon said. “We could stay with my dad, or maybe Audrey could come with us and we could get an apartment.” 

 

“There is nothing I would love more.” Ryan smiled sadly at him. “But I don’t even know how to live in the real world anymore. I’m scared that I won't be able to handle it.” 

 

Brendon ran a hand through Ryan’s hair. “You’re so smart, Ry. You’ll be able to get used to it. It sounds selfish but I don't want to lose you when I get out of here.” 

 

“No, I’m being selfish too.” Ryan sighed. “We’ll figure something out, okay? I just- can I ask you something?” 

Brendon nodded. 

 

“I’m just worried I’m going to affect your recovery. You meant what you said when you said that you wanted to be good enough for me, right?” 

 

Brendon hesitated, but nodded again. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” he began. “And I don't just mean physically, like, in every way. The way you think and act and just  _ are.  _ You deserve the world and I’m not strong enough to give it to you.” 

 

“I don't deserve any more or less than the universe gives me.” Ryan said, all philosophically. “That’s why you scare me. Because when I came here, I had nothing to lose, but now… Brendon, I thought you were going to die when you ripped the tube out of your stomach. People in hazmat suits cleaned the infirmary, nobody would tell me anything, not even if you were alive.” 

 

Ryan’s eyes were brimming with tears now, making Brendon feel incredibly guilty. “I’m so sorry-” 

 

Ryan shook his head, smiling. “You’re alive, and you’re healthy, and that’s what I want most.” 

 

“I love you.” Brendon blurted out. He froze when he realized what he just said, eyes going wide. 

 

Ryan’s expression matched Brendon’s, though his lips were parted. He was silent for a few sickeningly long seconds, making Brendon think he really fucked it up this time. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Ryan’s lips curled up into a smile. 

 

“Really?” Ryan asked quietly. His ears were so red, a nervous little smile on his face. 

 

“Yeah.” Brendon breathed. “Kind of a lot.” 

 

Ryan closed the distance, kissing him fiercely. Brendon held him close, focusing all his energy into the kiss. If Ryan didn't believe his words, Brendon hoped he’d feel them. Ryan wound his fingers through Brendon’s hair, pulling just enough to make Brendon gasp. 

 

Ryan pressed his forehead to Brendon’s, lips just inches apart, breathing the same air. “I love you too.” Ryan said, making Brendon’s heart leap. “Kind of a lot.” 

 

Ryan laughed, making Brendon laugh too. “You look good in my clothes.” Brendon said, unsubtly giving Ryan a once-over. 

 

Ryan went red, looking down at himself in Brendon’s pyjamas. “I missed you. I didn’t think you’d mind.” 

 

“I don't.” Brendon grinned. “Like I said, you look  _ good.”  _

 

“You’re too kind.” Ryan drawled. He gripped the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head and letting it drop to the floor. 

 

Brendon’s eyes flickered down to his boyfriend’s exposed chest. Brendon licked his lips. When he met Ryan’s gaze again, his eyes were dark, watching Brendon.

 

“I can't even think full thoughts when you look at me like that.” Brendon said. 

 

Ryan smirked, kissing Brendon again. This time it was a different kind of passion flowing between them. 

 

Brendon’s hands trailed lightly up Ryan’s sides, making him shiver. Ryan bit down on Brendon’s bottom lip, licking into his mouth. Brendon met him halfway, letting Ryan suck on his tongue. 

 

Brendon groaned, his hands finding a place in Ryan’s hair. He remembered Dallon’s comment about Ryan’s hair and tugged hard. 

 

Ryan let out a airy gasp, his head falling back as he broke the kiss. “Harder.” Ryan said, voice low and gravelly. It was the hottest thing Brendon ever fucking heard. 

 

Brendon pulled harder. Ryan’s head was all the way back, his lips parted as he breathed hard. He was clinging to Brendon’s shirt, their bodies flush. Brendon nipped at Ryan’s exposed neck, licking over the marks he left. 

 

“You look good in purple too.” Brendon commented after leaving a particularly nasty bruise by Ryan’s collar bone. 

 

Ryan moaned in reply, too far gone to respond coherently. He was rocking against Brendon’s hip, making needy little sounds that went straight to Brendon’s cock. 

 

“I had this dream.” Ryan said. “While you were gone. About your mouth-” Brendon’s tongue flickered over one of Ryan’s nipples making him curse. 

 

Ryan walked the two of them backwards, falling down onto Brendon’s bed. “And when I woke up,” Ryan continued. “I wanted to just get myself off so bad, but I also wanted to wait for you.” 

 

“I’m glad you waited.” Brendon said, settling between Ryan’s knees. Their lips met again, lazily sliding against each other as Ryan grinded down into him. He was gripping the edge of Brendon’s shirt tightly. 

 

“You can...” Brendon trailed off, gesturing to his shirt. 

 

“Are you sure?” Ryan asked, eyes sparkling as they studied Brendon’s. 

 

Brendon nodded, holding his arms out awkwardly to the side. Ryan got up on his knees and slid his hands under Brendon’s shirt, pulling it off. 

 

Brendon stayed very still, searching Ryan’s eyes for any sign of disgust. He was surprised that he couldn't find any. 

 

Ryan just smiled, his cool fingers brushing across Brendon’s chest, his nipples, the stitches where his tube used to be. 

 

“I didn't know you had to get stitches.” Ryan frowned. “Lay down.” 

 

Brendon complied, laying back on his pillows. “I didn't either. I think I ripped something when I tried to pull it out.” 

 

“Does it hurt?” Ryan asked, kissing down his chest. 

 

“Only a little.” Brendon replied, watching Ryan through hooded eyes. 

 

Ryan pressed his lips to the stitches, feather light. He kissed lower, and then even lower, looking up every so often to make sure Brendon was okay. 

 

Ryan kissed down Brendon’s hips, sliding his fingers under the band of Brendon’s sweatpants. 

 

“Okay?” he asked. 

 

Brendon nodded, raising his hips to help Ryan get his pants off. 

 

Ryan took Brendon’s length into his mouth, making Brendon let out a moan. Ryan bobbed his head fluidly, hollowing his cheeks.

 

Brendon whined as Ryan pulled off, getting in his face again. Ryan’s hand took the place of where his mouth used to be, stroking Brendon. His cock was leaking already and Ryan had barely touched him. 

 

“You’re so beautiful.” Ryan said, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “So, so, fucking beautiful, oh my god.” 

 

Brendon blushed, kissing Ryan’s neck in an attempt to hide. 

 

“Do you believe me?” Ryan asked between kisses. He pulled away just enough to meet Brendon’s eyes. "I really hope you believe me."

 

Brendon studied him, looking for any deceit in his gaze, any disgust or pity. He didn't see a damn thing. 

 

“Yeah.” Brendon nodded, cupping Ryan’s cheek. 

 

And for the first time in his life, he really did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	9. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Brendon was terrified to rejoin his peer at Clover Fields, but he had no reason to be. Gerard and Frank were out of the infirmary and doing well. Gerard looked a lot better. His hair had been trimmed and re-dyed back to it’s vibrant red. He still had some dark circles, but the color had returned to his cheeks and he looked alive again. 

However, Brendon could help but notice the way Gerard’s eyes didn't shine like they did when they first met. His mannerisms were a bit awkward, almost robotic, but he was smiling. 

Brendon apologized for the things he said, and Gerard for the things he did. There were no hard feelings. Brendon and Gerard were too genuinely proud of the other’s recovery to stay angry. 

Gerard knew what he did to his brother. Even though he was filled with indescribable sorrow, Gerard had never had so much clarity. He was still healing of course, but Gerard finally felt free. 

Frank had managed to stay sober through Gerard’s whole ordeal, even though he turned to some other unhealthy coping mechanisms along the way. He was already looking at places to live for when him and Gerard got out. 

During a smoke break, Brendon saw Ian and Dallon were sitting up against one of the walls. Ian had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, one hand intertwined with Dallon’s between their bent knees. 

Dallon had told the truth about what happened in the closet, which led to him confessing about his feelings. Ian expressed that he needed time to figure things out, but his feelings for Dallon certainly weren't just platonic. They were taking it slow. 

Gerard may never forgive Pete for abandoning his brother, but Pete was coming to terms with that. It was okay if Gerard never forgave him, as long as he forgave himself. And he was working on it. 

Spencer didn't want to stop using and he didn't, not for another couple of years until a heart scare landed him in the hospital. After battling with alcohol addiction for a few years, Spencer would finally get clean. 

Jon Walker The Bass Player would get out of Clover Fields pretty quickly. He never really had the dependency on drugs that Frank and Spencer had. He would get into the music scene, starting with small shows until he was finally headlining. After the release of his second studio album, Jon considered himself pretty famous. 

Brendon never really had time to get to know the rest of the boys; Josh, Tyler, Patrick, or Bob, though he’d come to find out a few years later that Josh killed himself while in Clover Fields care. It was completely out of the blue, shocking everyone. Around the same time, and amber alert came out on Tyler. He escaped during the night and was never found. 

Lynz was fired after Gerard’s break. She was taken to trial for the things she did to Gerard while he was under her influence. It landed her 30 years in federal prison. 

Ryan went to court with his father right after Brendon ripped his tube out. He never said anything to Brendon at the time, didn't want to both him with his own issues. Apparently the case had been opened again because new evidence came in. His father wasn't caught red handed or anything, but there was enough evidence to get him sentenced for life in prison with no bail. 

Ryan had a lot to take in that day. Just seeing his father again nearly sent him into three layers of panic, his voices going crazy. They got so loud that Ryan had to leave the witness stand because he couldn't tell which voice was the judge’s and which weren't. And he felt so incredibly alone. He had no idea where Brendon was, if he was even alive. He eventually got Priscilla to  tell him that Brendon was moved temporarily to the hospital for observation. 

By the time Ryan finally had Brendon back, safe in his arms and  _ healthy,  _ Ryan barely heard any voices. Just Brendon’s and his own. 

While Brendon did believe that Ryan thought he was beautiful, it took him a few more months in treatment to get to a good enough space to leave. (25lbs heavier, might Brendon add, though he wasn't counting).

He had trusted Dr. Uma enough to finally open up about everything. The way he thought he had to make up for the things his father did. The way he tried to be good for his mother. How he was gay and she would disown him if she had any proof. 

He also talked about Ryan. About how much Ryan helped him, how much he loved him. How he can't live without him. 

He talked about moving in with Ryan and Audrey when he got out, and how he can’t go back to his mother. 

Almost everyone cried when Brendon left. Gerard was a mess, telling Brendon that if he didn't keep in touch, he’d hunt him down. 

Ryan was the worst. He ignored Brendon for a day after he announced he was leaving. Brendon managed to break through, crawling into bed with him, holding Ryan while he cried. 

He didn't know what he’d do without Brendon. How he’d live with the voices again if they came back. 

Brendon mentioned taking Ryan with him, and Ryan almost accepted. 

**  
  
**

Almost. 

But in the end, he couldn't be that selfish. 

They made love the night before Brendon left, Ryan’s taste still on his lips as his sister picked him up. He was too upset to be excited to move in with her. They got a small little apartment right outside Vegas. 

Brendon called everyday, talking to Ryan for hours, about anything and everything. He talked about how it was tempting it was to starve and purge without nurses breathing down his neck. Ryan reminded him how much he loved Brendon, and how beautiful he was. 

Ryan talked about how the voices would come and go. There was a new one that had a sick fascination with Ryan’s skin, and how beautiful it would look sliced open, how good he looked in red. Brendon told him how strong he was, how much he loved Ryan and how he knew he was better than that. 

It was hard at first. Brendon was worried they wouldn't be able to do it. 

Until he got the phone call. 

~*~

Brendon was lying in his bed, plucking a song about seattle’s rain and missing the ones you love when his cell rang. 

He frowned, putting his guitar down. Brendon wasn't expecting a call from Ryan, in fact, he got off the phone with him a few hours ago. (Ryan had to go to lunch and Brendon needed to work out a melody before he forgot.)

Sure enough though, Ryan’s name popped up on the caller ID. 

“Hello?” Brendon answered. 

“Uh, hi again.” Ryan said shyly. 

Brendon grinned, leaning back on his pillows. “Couldn't stay away, huh?” 

Ryan chuckled over the line, making Brendon’s heart flutter. It had only been a couple of weeks, but he really fucking missed his boyfriend. “So I was talking with Gerard and Frank at lunch.” 

“Yeah?” Brendon asked. “They doing okay?” 

“Really well, actually.” Ryan said. He paused. 

“Ry?” 

“Oh sorry.” Ryan said. Brendon imagined he was shaking his head, maybe even tugging his hair. “I was just thinking.” 

Brendon waited. 

“That maybe…” Ryan hesitated. Brendon’s heart raced in his chest. This didn't sound good. “Maybe I could try living with you- I mean- if the offer’s still open..” he stuttered out. 

Brendon was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. “Are you kidding, Ryan? There is literally nothing I want more.” 

“Good.” Ryan laughed. “Because I checked myself out already and it would be pretty shit if I had nowhere to go.” 

“I love you a lot.” Brendon blurted. “Just so you know.”

“I know.” Ryan grinned. “And I love you a lot too. Just so you know.” 

When Brendon hung up, his heart was full. Bursting with love and hope, something he never thought he’d feel again. 

  
And Brendon finally,  _truly,_ had something to live for. 


End file.
